Volcano's Edge
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Heading for some downtime with Kaylee's family, an old enemy rears his head, and Mal is forced into dangerous action to save his crew. This section complete, but more to come in the arc!
1. Chapter 1

"_Haven't you ever known you were going to see an old friend, even though you believed he was off-world? Or didn't do something because you just knew it was going to go wrong? We all have them – psychic flashes. But by extension there are those individuals who sit between us and the powerful psychics like River and Freya. We saw what happened with Grace, when she had her abilities turned on, the almost overwhelming nature of it. Suppose that was multiplied a thousand times, a million… Less than one tenth of one percent, Mal, that's what she said on Miranda. That's about right for the kind of psychic ability I'm talking about." Simon, OPPORTUNITIES_

* * *

They swung by Prometheus on their way to Phoros, burying the remains of their friends under the small stand of trees. Jayne dug the grave with varying degrees of assistance from Hank and Simon, and River collected soft grass and flowers for inside while Kaylee engraved the headstone.

"What do you want on it?" Kaylee asked, knowing Mal was standing at her back, watching carefully as she finished inscribing the date. "Not really enough room for all the names, 'less I write 'em small."

"Road Runner," he said softly. "That's all it needs. It's what they were, Road Runner's family."

"_Shr ah_."

Still, as they laid the box to rest, Mal noticed she'd managed to put the crew's names anyway, even if it wasn't clear from any distance. He had to smile. If anything like that ever happened to them, he hoped there'd be someone around to make sure they were buried right. No. He corrected himself. He hoped something like that _never_ happened to them.

After the small ceremony, where he read a passage from Book's old Bible, most of the crew moved off, while he stayed at Freya's side. She'd made a small posy from more wild flowers, and was staring at the smallest stone that marked their daughter.

"I miss her too," he said quietly. "I can only imagine what she'd've been like."

Freya glanced at him, and he was pleased to note she looked fairly calm.

"Her and Bethie would be running the ship. And I'm not calm," she added. "Just good at hiding it."

"Not so good at the not peeking, though," he chided.

"You were thinking loud."

"I thought it was only River who accused me of that." He put his arm around her waist.

"Sorry." She leaned into him, her eyes still on the marker. "I wish …"

He squeezed gently. "Me too. But you seen that down there?" He nodded towards the stream that ran along the bottom of the valley. "That's our future, Frey. Down there."

Freya looked, and had to smile. Ethan was at the water's edge, Jesse hunkered down next to him. It looked as if he was making boats out of leaves and twigs, and setting them to run over the chattering stones. They could hear Jesse's giggle from where they stood.

"Family," River agreed from where she had arranged herself on the grass by Jethro's stone, Caleb in her arms.

"Gotta agree with you there, albatross," Mal said. "You showing the boy off?"

River nodded. "I have a lot of things to tell Jethro, so I would be obliged if you would leave us be." She looked at him quite pointedly.

"Guess that's told me," Mal murmured. "Come on, Frey," he added. "I conjure we know when we're not wanted."

Freya laughed lightly, then placed the posy against the tiny headstone. "Miss you," she whispered, her voice catching, then stood straight, taking Mal's hand. "Shall we see whether you can teach me to skip stones?"

He grinned. "Make sure Ethan ain't gonna fall in, more like, taking our youngest with him." They headed off down the hill towards their children.

"You okay with this?" Zoe asked, leaning against the open cargo bay doors, watching Jayne watching River.

The big man shrugged. "If'n you mean am I jealous?" He glanced at her. "Sure. But it's a crazy kinda jealousy over a dead man, ain't it? It ain't like he's gonna get up and walk, maybe taking her away from me. And if he tried, wouldn't take much to put him back down."

"I suppose."

"Besides, she's my wife. Got the tattoo to prove it." He held up his hand, showing the intricate design. "We're forever, Zo. That ain't never gonna change. She said so."

"And you believe everything she says?"

Jayne growled with pleasure. "Sure. She's River."

Zoe smiled and went inside to find her own husband.

Down in the soft grass, a little further along, Simon grabbed Hope around the waist and lifted her up into the air, flying her through the pollen and tiny seeds thrown up by their running. She wriggled in his grasp, laughing with delight. "Higher, Daddy, higher!" she hiccupped.

"She'll be sick," Kaylee warned, showing Bethie how to make a daisy chain.

Simon made as if to let his daughter go, and she shrieked as she grabbed at him, but his hands were secure and he pulled her close into his body. "Are you likely to be sick?" he asked, holding her upside down.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Tickles!"

"Really?" He looked almost surprised, then rolled onto his back, Hope on his chest. "You know, I quite like your hair like this," he said, ruffling her short blonde locks.

"I still ain't sure," Kaylee admitted, looking askance at their other daughter.

"She wanted it," Bethie said, her head on one side as she studied the daisies linked together.

"But it was so pretty." Kaylee sighed, remembering the day only a couple of weeks before when they'd found the pair of them sitting in Hope's room, her long blonde hair scattered across the floor, and Bethie with a pair of scissors hidden behind her back.

"It'll grow again," Simon assured her. "And Bethie was already punished."

The little girl nodded. "No books or toys for a week." She sighed, sounding very hard done by. "Uncle Mal thought it was funny."

"And he oughtta be ashamed of himself," Kaylee muttered to herself, then looked up at a shout from the stream. She grinned. "Bethie, I think you need to go get Fiddler. I think he just splashed your Uncle Mal."

Bethie leaped to her feet and ran to rescue her little dog from an irate captain.

All too soon the sun dipped below the level of the mountains, and the air cooled quickly.

Mal stood up, rubbing his hands together. "Okay," he said. "Everybody back on board."

"But Daddy –" Ethan began.

"Unless you don't want to go visit Grandma Frye."

In a moment Ethan was standing, Jesse's hand clasped tightly in his, and they were hurrying up the hill towards Serenity. River got elegantly to her feet and touched Jethro's marker, just once, then turned into Jayne's embrace. Kaylee and Simon ambled on board, until there was only Freya, pausing once more by the headstones.

"You okay, _ai ren_?" Mal asked, standing close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.

"Not sure."

"You seeing something? 'Cause if you are –"

"I don't know."

His shoulders tightened. "We likely to be adding to these?" When she didn't answer, he put his hand on her arm. "Come on. Else they'll be leaving us behind." He slid his hand down until their fingers meshed, and he led her back into Serenity, the shadows lengthening behind them and ghosting over the row of markers.

* * *

And now they were dropping towards Phoros, and Bethany Tam was bouncing so much that her mother couldn't get her shoes done up. "Sit still, will you?"

"But it's Granma and Granpa," her daughter said, pushing her hands under her bottom to sit on them in an attempt to do what she was told.

Kaylee smiled. "I know. And I ain't seen 'em in a month of Sundays either, but at least I managed to get dressed by myself." She finished the last buckle. "There."

Bethie slid off her bed and looked down. "Do I look nice?" she asked, studying her patent shoes and her soft pink dress.

"You look real pretty."

"Good." She grinned, showing the gap where one of her baby teeth had recently come out. When she'd first found it was loose she had been upset, insisting her father glue it back in. Then he'd explained that normally children didn't start changing to adult teeth until they were six, and she was only five, so she was more advanced. Besides, he pointed out that, when it did fall out, if she put it under her pillow, she might get a nice surprise.

"Bethie, do you have to?" Mal complained, having endured most of the dinner that night watching the little girl wiggle her tooth, first with her tongue, then her finger.

"Simon's fault," River said, spooning mush into Caleb's mouth. "Told her about the tooth fairy."

"The what?" Mal looked at Freya, hoping for some kind of enlightenment.

His wife smiled. "Something Core parents tell their children."

"Daddy said I'd get a surprise if I put it under my pillow," Bethie explained somewhat indistinctly, moving the tooth backwards and forwards.

"Alex and I used to get a brand new ten credit note for every tooth," Freya went on. "Of course, Mother insisted we immediately put it into the bank for a rainy day." She laughed. "You know, I never did use any of it. Probably worth a fortune by now, what with interest."

"Money?" Bethie's eyes grew rounder.

"Not on board Serenity, though," Hank put in. "The tooth fairy doesn't carry money this far out."

"Wouldn't worry, squirt," Jayne added, taking pity on Bethie's downcast face. "There's places on the Rim they'd be knocking each other's teeth out just for a chance at ten credits if they heard." He covered his own with his lips. "Everyone'd be talking like this."

Bethie grinned at him, as always finding her Uncle Jayne funny, even if everyone else was glaring at him.

It still took another four days for the tooth to come out, and next morning everyone heard the commotion as the tooth fairy was discovered to have left a small silver pendant in place of the tooth.

She was wearing it now, a little teddy bear on a chain. Kaylee straightened it around her daughter's neck, then smiled. "You look real shiny."

"Thank you, Momma," Bethie said formally, then leapt into her mother's arms. "I love you."

"And I love you too." Kaylee held her close, rubbing her hand up and down her back.

Not that Bethie could stand still too long. "Is it time?" she asked, untangling herself and smoothing her dress.

"Nearly. Why don't you go wait in the cargo bay while I get Hope ready?"

"Okay." She skipped out, collecting Fiddler on the way. Uncle Jayne was already waiting, sitting on his weights bench doing arm curls. "Hello," she said, smiling.

"Hey, ain't you the cute one," Jayne said, looking her up and down. "Nice dress."

"'S'new." She primped a little.

"Figured it might be. And I'm glad you're wearing your gift from the tooth fairy."

Bethie put her head on one side. "'Cept the tooth fairy goes by the name of Uncle Jayne, doesn't he?"

Jayne didn't blush. He figured his skin had forgotten how to, so he just growled. "You ain't to go telling no-one, you hear?"

"Momma knows."

"Yeah, well, I had to tell her. She caught me sneakin' into your room." He fixed her with a glare, usually guaranteed to wilt any adversary of up to seven feet tall and three hundred pounds. "And you ain't supposed to be peekin'."

The glare didn't seem to work on someone three feet from the ground and not much more than thirty pounds wringing wet. "I love my Uncle Jayne," she said, grinning widely. She glanced at her own small version weight bench sitting next to his. "Can we –"

"No." He raised his eyebrows. "You got any idea what your Ma would do to me if I let you mess yourself up?"

"Keelhaul you."

Somehow he wasn't surprised she'd know a word like that, still being enamoured of pirates as she was. "Most like."

"_Everyone, hold onto something,"_ Mal's voice came over the com. _"Hank's trying to break his record for landing."_

"Aw, hell." Jayne grabbed Bethie and pulled her onto his lap, hearing the engine note change as they dropped through the atmo. The little girl giggled. "Hey, ain't nothing to be laughing about," he scolded. "One day that man's gonna make a mistake and we're gonna end up smeared all over the landscape."

"Not today," River said, walking down the stairs from their shuttle, Caleb in her arms.

"At least hold on," Jayne pleaded, envisioning the ship jerking and his wife and son flying across the bay.

"It won't happen." She continued down to the floor, and as she reached the deck she flexed her knees and absorbed the shock as Serenity touched down with just a small bounce.

"_Okay, people,"_ Mal said again, with more than a trace of relief. _"Since Hank's failed in his attempt to kill us all, be in the bay in five ready to leave."_

"_I ain't that bad!"_ Hank's voice filled in the background.

"_I coulda landed better!"_

"_Yeah? Well, why don't you just go and …"_ There was a pause, then Hank went on, a trifle strained, _"I'll just go get ready, shall I?"_

"_Good idea."_

"_Um, Cap?" _This time it was Kaylee. _"You've still got the com on shipwide …"_

There was a silence, then a click. Jayne looked at River for clarification.

"Mal drew on Hank," she explained.

Jayne grinned. "Yeah, that'd do it."

* * *

Near a year, give or take a month or two, since they'd last been to see the Fryes, and it felt like no time at all had passed. Ellie Frye was standing at the oven, pulling a huge loaf of bread from inside, as Kaylee tripped into the kitchen.

"Hi, Ma," she said.

"Mornin' Kaylee. Can you give me a hand?"

"Course." Kaylee grinned and picked up a glove from the counter, taking the other side of the tin and helping her mother slide it into the rack. "Everyone okay?"

"They're fine." Ellie smiled back. "You're looking well. Blooming, almost. That husband of yours keeping you right?"

Kaylee laughed. "Surely is. And now Hope's walking and beginning to talk, and Bethie's five, and River's got Caleb –"

Her mother put up her hand. "We've got time for all that. Where are they all?"

"Outside."

Ellie shook her head. "Every time you do this, leave them out there as if they ain't family."

"They just like me to have a few minutes with my Ma." She put her head on one side. "You know?"

"I know." Ellie put her arms out and Kaylee hurried into a hug, feeling her mother's unconditional love surrounding her, and breathing in the soft scent of fresh baked bread. As she felt her daughter relax, she grinned. "Now you go let them in. I want to see the new arrival."

The door opened and Bethie blew through like a mini tornado. "Granma!" she yelped, running across the room and throwing herself onto Ellie, who lifted her up.

"Hey, you've grown!" she said, hugging her granddaughter.

"Couldn't wait any longer," Bethie admitted, glancing over her shoulder as Simon, holding Hope's hand, came into the house, followed by the rest of the crew.

"And that's as it should be." Ellie put her back on the floor, then smiled at everyone. "Eddie's out back as usual, so you all go through."

"Can we help at all?" Freya asked, basking in the warmth emanating from the woman.

"You're guests!"

"We're family," River said, slipping her arm through Ellie's. "You said. So what do you need?"

"Well, you could bring the bread. And there's some stuff in the cold store needs bringing out. And I think there's another keg of …" She stopped, embarrassed.

Mal grinned. "You just tell us what to do."

* * *

"You have them in sight?"

"Yes sir."

"How many?"

"The entire crew. They're visiting a family."

"Good. Is good. You know what to do."

"Yes sir." There was a click in his ear and the tiny unit went silent. He exhaled, realising he'd been holding his breath while talking to his boss. It always affected him this way. That voice, all … unreal. Mechanical.

It made his teeth itch.

Moving back into the shadows, he could see the fire at the back of the house, with figures moving to and fro. He could wait. He was good at that.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Eddie Frye went in search of his daughter to tell her breakfast was ready. He wasn't surprised when he found her in her old shed, moving stuff about.

"You okay, Winnie?" he asked from the doorway, making Kaylee smile at the use of his old name for her.

"I'm shiny, Pa. Real shiny."

"Then why ain't you with that husband of yours and my two granddaughters?" Like Simon, Eddie didn't even think about Hope not being blood.

"Just felt like visiting. Remembering when I was young." She patted her workbench, looking around at the disembowelled Cortex screens, the bits and pieces she'd collected when she wore pigtails, the sign on the door announcing it was '_Kaylee's Workshop_', painted all around with little flowers. Maybe she hadn't changed that much.

"Well, your Ma sent me to find you. She's anxious we eat soon, so we can get everything ready for the rest of the family coming over later today."

"The rest? How many're coming?" She could still remember Simon's trepidation at being faced with her relatives en masse at the wedding.

"Not many. A dozen or so. Maybe twenty, twenty-five."

"Sounds good."

"She wants to show off. You'd think that young River's baby was her grandchild, the way she been cooing and getting all misty over him."

"Well, guess maybe, in a way, he is."

"How'd you figure that?"

"Well, I'm your daughter -"

"So your Ma keeps telling me."

She thumped him. "And I'm married to Simon, and River's his sister so she's my sister-in-law … so don't that kinda make her your daughter-in-law?"

Eddie laughed. "Not sure a court'd look on it like that."

"Not talking about a court, talking about us. And Bethie and Hope're Caleb's cousins, no matter what, so I figure I'm right."

"So your mother is a Grandma-in-law?"

"Something like that."

"Oh, Winnie. You always did look on the bright side of everything."

"Got to. Only natural. And I think you ought to put Caleb's name in the Bible."

"You think?"

"Sure. And I know River'd like that."

"Then I will. This afternoon." He glared at her. "Just so long as this don't start your Ma getting all broody on me."

"You could have another baby," Kaylee said stoutly. "You ain't that old."

"Now, don't you even go suggesting it," her father warned. "Bad enough with all your brothers still at home. Can't even begin to think about having to deal with diapers and midnight feeds again." He shuddered theatrically.

"You should make 'em leave," Kaylee, the cosmopolitan traveller, grinned. "Be good for 'em to get out and live a little."

"They live enough, thank you." Eddie laughed. "Joe's been hanging around Polly Moffatt, Pete's with Lily, while Bill's having too much fun to settle for one woman … Bobby's the only one who seems to be keeping himself, and I ain't too sure about that. Boy's always been a bit secretive."

"You want me to talk to him? I can get him to tell me, you know I can."

"I know. You got more of their secrets in that pretty head of yours than me or your Ma, but I think Bobby can keep his. Leastways until he comes rolling home telling us he's got someone in the family way and is leaving Phoros."

Kaylee grinned. "Now you know he ain't gonna do that. I got all the wanderlust in this family."

"I reckon you did, Winnie." He picked up a drill. "So what was it you were looking for?"

"Who said I was looking at all?"

"You were turning stuff over, like you were searching. Didn't hear me calling you, either."

She hitched herself onto the old stool. "I was just taking a look, see if I couldn't find a couple of microtransmitters."

"What for?"

"A beacon." She almost laughed at the look on her father's face. "No, it ain't that I'm trying to fake a transponder. Don't need to do that, not when you can buy one if'n you know the right place to go."

"So what would you be needing them for?" Eddie asked, only a trifle mollified, and more than a little concerned that his baby girl would know the kinds of places she was mentioning in passing. "You planning on keeping tabs on that Bethie?"

"No. Not a bad idea, though. But it's Simon."

Her father's demeanour became more serious. "Is he straying?"

"No, no. Oh, Pa, Simon'd never do that." She put her hand on his and squeezed. "It ain't nothing bad. In fact, it's to keep him safe. The Cap's insisting whenever we're somewhere that ain't home, and River or Simon are off-ship, they gotta carry a beacon."

"You mean like when you were on Newhall?"

Kaylee nodded. They'd told the others of Hank's little adventure with the noose and Simon's brush with death while they were eating dinner the night before, eliciting the requisite number of _oh no's_ and _he didn't's_ from their audience. "'Xactly that. 'Cept Simon fell on his. He's got a real fine scar on his chest out of it, too."

"Can't you fix it? The beacon, I mean, not the scar."

"Sure I can. I did. But it's too big, and I promised to make something'd fit in the heel of his shoe, maybe. That's why I was thinking of microtransmitters." She started to turn the junk over again. "I got a recollection of taking a couple of old earwigs apart once, and I just wondered if they was still here." She was almost talking to herself now. "I shoulda got the bits I needed from Magpie, but I wasn't really thinking straight. She'd'a had something I could use, sure as chickens lay eggs, maybe even already put together, but somehow I don't think the Cap's gonna take too kindly to me asking if we can go back there, not after the way –"

"Kaylee." Her father interrupted her musings.

"What?"

"They ain't there."

"What?" She looked up. "How do you know –"

"You traded 'em. Remember? To Holly Glock for a vid clip, if I recall. Some soap opera thing."

Kaylee's eyes widened. "Gorramit, I think you're right."

"Course I'm right. I ain't so far into my dotage I don't get some things truthful. And don't swear."

"Sorry, Pa." She sighed heavily. "Looks like I'm gonna have to wait 'til I can get to a decent supplier. Only they probably ain't gonna be cheap, and the Cap –"

"I might have something you can use."

Her face lit up and she jumped from the stool in her excitement. "You might?"

"Got a few bits and pieces in exchange for some work I did, and one of 'em was one of those mini Cortex players. You know, the kind that fits in your palm." He shook his head. "Can't see the point in 'em myself. Screen's too damn small to make anything out, but there you go. Still, you could maybe cannibalise it."

"But Pa … won't you want to sell it? I mean, piece like that, you could get maybe –"

"Like I said, I don't see the point in it. And I'd rather know it'd gone to a good cause, like you keeping that husband of yours safe."

"Oh, Pa …" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

He grinned, holding her close. "Anything for my Winnie," he said.

"Are you two going to be staying in here all day?" Bobby Frye asked, leaning in the door, his face split by a wide grin. "I don't know, comes back to visit and can't keep out of the machinery."

Kaylee swatted at him, catching him on the arm. "Me and my Pa were having some father/daughter time."

"Well, 'scuse me for living." He didn't look too put out, though. "And you'd better come get to the food 'fore your mercenary decides he's hungry."

"He ain't my mercenary," Kaylee said, letting go of her father and smoothing her clothes. "He's River's. And he ain't a mercenary no more, neither. He's a family man."

"Yeah, saw him feeding Caleb. Didn't know he could do that."

"Do what?"

"Be a person." This time he winced as she hit him harder. "You know, I missed you a bit, but I ain't missed you beating up on me all the time."

"Sure you did," she said sweetly, sweeping out of the shed past him, her brother and father following meekly in her wake.

* * *

Two figures moved in the shadows.

"Them?" one asked.

"No. No women. Not yet." He remembered the voice being very specific.

"Why not? It ain't like –"

"No women! You really wanna know what he'd do to you if you did anything to make him mad?"

"Neither do you. You ain't even seen him."

"Don't have to see him. I know." That voice …

* * *

"There you are." Ellie looked up from where she was placing a huge plate of waffles into the centre of the table. "I thought you weren't hungry."

Kaylee dropped onto the bench next to Simon. "Me? Not hungry?" She grinned. "That ain't likely to ever happen."

"Now I know where Bethie gets it from," Freya said, smiling widely.

"Yep, that'd be me." Kaylee peered at the waffles. "Though I'd not sure I can eat too many. Felt a little off this morning."

"Are you all right?" Simon asked, his medical persona showing through. "Perhaps I should -"

"I'm fine. Weren't nothing." She patted his hand reassuringly

"Good. Specially after I went to all the trouble of making your favourite syrup." Ellie handed over a heavy jug.

Her daughter sniffed, her eyes rolling back into her head. "Oh, Ma. Strawberry."

"I don't get it," Hank said, spearing a waffle before Jayne could get to it. "River grows 'em, and you can eat 'em any time you like, but you still get all … bibbledly over 'em?"

She glared at him. "You can never have too many strawberries. 'Sides, this syrup's special. It's got a secret ingredient in it that Ma won't tell anyone what it is."

"Secret?" Hank grabbed the jug and poured a tiny amount onto his plate. He stuck his finger in and tasted it carefully. "Wow."

"Exactly." She took the syrup back before he could empty it on his waffles. "And it's ladies first."

"Momma, can I have some?" Bethie asked, bouncing a little.

"Course you can. You're a lady."

Bethie grinned, then stuck her tongue out at Ethan opposite.

"Only I seem to recall ladies don't do that," Freya pointed out.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

Bethie giggled.

"It's okay," Ellie said, laughing herself. "I got plenty more."

As his wife served his daughters with waffles, Simon leaned over towards Mal sitting next to him at the head of the table. "Mal, here's that list you wanted." He held out a piece of paper.

Mal raised his eyebrows as he took it. "List?"

"Of where we might be able to pick up an antiviral replicator. I'm sorry I haven't done it before, but –"

"What?"

"You wanted to know where we could steal one like they had on Newhall. To make any vaccines we needed."

Mal smiled. "Right." He glanced down. "This got ease of access on?"

"I've marked them up in order of stealability, yes."

"Is that a word?"

"It is now."

"Good boy."

"Do I get a treat?" Simon asked deadpan.

"Sure. Get some of the waffles 'fore they're all gone."

Simon smiled. "Exactly what I was intending to do."

At the other end of the table, Hank was deep in conversation.

"I don't know. I'll ask."

"You have to ask your wife every time you wanna do something?" Peter Frye scoffed.

"You wait 'til you're married. Makes life a lot more … interesting if you don't."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Believe me, doing a little grovelling now and again is good for the marriage. If not for the knees." Hank turned to his right to his wife. "Honey, you got any objection if me and Pete here go fishing?"

"Fishing?"

"Yeah. Just for an hour or two. See if we can't contribute to the festivities."

Her expression didn't seem to change. "You didn't catch anything last time."

"Then it's time my luck changed." He grinned.

"You might be needed to help out."

"Well, yeah, I know, but -"

Eddie Frye interrupted. "You go off and enjoy yourselves. Might be doing us a favour, as that pike still ain't been caught, and it's playing hell with the other fish."

"See?" Hank turned to Zoe. "I would be helping out." He tossed in the sweetener. "You could come with us."

For a moment she didn't answer. Then … "And interrupt your male bonding? I don't think so." She smiled. "Go ahead. But if you fall in don't expect me to come along and save you."

"You always save me, Zoe. Lord knows where I'd be without you."

"Hmmn."

Hank leaned over and kissed her cheek, then turned back to Pete. "You got the gear?"

"All ready."

"Then after breakfast."

Pete nodded. "Shiny."

* * *

They watched as two men left the house, one of them carrying a wicker basket, while the other had a pair of fishing rods over his shoulder.

"Them?"

"Them."


	3. Chapter 3

Kaylee's family were gathering, and by about two o'clock the rest of Serenity's crew were told, in no uncertain terms, to go and get out from under their feet while everything was prepared for the party that evening. This meant that Simon and Kaylee took the opportunity to go back to Serenity for a little quiet time, while Freya and River tried to block the resulting sexual overflow by playing cards and talking loudly.

Jayne, knowing he needed to be doing something physical, got out the set of horseshoes and set up the pins in the field, where he was joined by Mal, Ethan and Bethie. The little girl soon got tired of the game, and sat under a convenient tree to play with Fiddler.

Ethan, on the other hand, was enjoying himself, being with his father and uncle, and pretending to be a man. "What was my Granma like?" he asked, picking up the horseshoe and aiming carefully, his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth.

Mal's brows raised. "What do you want to know for?"

The little boy let fly, missing the pin by a good two feet. "Know Bethie's Granma and Granpa. Met Caleb's Granma. Want to know what mine was like."

His father half-smiled. "Well, for a start I'm not sure she'd ever've been able to guess I'd have a son like you. Actually, I doubt she'd ever thought of me having kids at all. Can't imagine it happening to you, but I guess it will someday."

"Four," Bethie put in unexpectedly, making Fiddler's back leg jerk with pleasure.

"What?"

"Four. I want four children. Or more puppies."

"Stick to the puppies, short stub," Jayne advised, taking his turn and hearing the horseshoe connect with a clang. "Kids'll kill ya."

"Says the man who changes diapers and reads Caleb bed-time stories." Mal grinned.

"Oh, I ain't saying I'd ever give up being a Dad. Just it means your life ain't your own no more. Got to think about the others all the time."

"Yep," Mal agreed happily. "Torture, ain't it?"

"Sure is." Jayne growled with laughter. "Never thought I'd be one of them liked pain."

"Masochist."

"What?"

"Masochist. Someone who enjoys having pain inflicted on them."

"Well, seeing as I'm the one usually doin' the inflictin' …"

Ethan looked up into their faces, feeling they'd got off track. "Daddy? Granma?"

Mal went down onto his heels. "Well, she was real pretty. And … well, she got on with everyone. Knew how to deal with folks."

"Like you."

His father grinned. "Yeah, like me. And she'd've liked you. Made you cakes and things, told you stories of when I was young, and the kinda things I got up to -"

"You mean like when you had to walk through town in a dress?" Jayne asked, chewing idly on a piece of grass.

Mal shot him a glare. "That kinda thing, yeah." He turned back to his son. "And she'd've held you close when we visited, kept you warm, just like your Momma does."

"I'd've loved her," Ethan said softly.

"You would."

"Best thing about having grandkids, I figure," Jayne added. "You get the best parts, then when they're needing changing, or they're being bad … you just hand 'em back."

"I think it'll be a while before you get those kind of benefits," Mal pointed out.

"Nah. Get that already with Ethan here and the short stub." He looked across at Bethie. "Ain't that right?" He stopped. "Hey, girl, you okay?"

She had paused, ignoring Fiddler as he tried to make her continue tickling him. "Auntie Zoe …" she said, looking up. "And Uncle Hank …" Her brow creased.

"Sir, have you seen Hank?" Zoe approached them from the direction of the house.

"He went fishing, didn't he?"

Zoe nodded. "With Kaylee's brother. But they're not back yet. And it's almost time for the party."

"Must be enjoying themselves." He smiled. "Probably talking about girls."

It didn't get the rise he expected. "And he's not answering his com."

Mal stood straighter. "He took one with him?"

"He's not stupid."

"No, I guess he ain't." He looked round at Bethie. "Can you see anything, sweetheart?"

The little girl shook her head. "Not hurt. Just … not here."

Mal felt something crawl up his spine and make a home at the base of his brain. "Come on. I think we'd better go see if anyone's had sight of either of 'em."

* * *

No-one had, and amid the growing mutterings Mal addressed the Frye clan and the rest of his crew. "Jayne, River, you stay put. If Hank or Pete shows up, you let me know, _dong mah_?"

"No problem," the big man growled.

"The rest of us search. At least three to a group – no-one goes alone or unarmed."

"You think –" Ellie couldn't finish the sentence, Kaylee holding onto her, giving as much as receiving comfort.

"I think we need to get out there and find them," Mal said gently. "But this is just a precaution. I'm taking it that they've fallen asleep and got their com turned off. Be just like Hank to do that, no matter how often he's been told."

"And I'll be telling him again, you can be sure of that," Zoe added.

Ellie knew they were just trying to make her feel better, to take away some of the nagging fear.

Kaylee squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Hank's got a lot better'n he used to be. Time was he'd go wool-gathering and we'd never know where he was." She smiled a little. "And he's got Pete with him. How much trouble can a man get into with my brother with him?"

"You've obviously forgotten the time your _brother_ decided to join the circus."

"Ma, he was eight years old!"

"So?"

Eddie smiled at his daughter, doing her best. "Mal's right, honey. Pete's got more sense than the other boys, you know that. If'n someone came after 'em, he'd take Hank to one of the hides, lay low 'til they'd gone by."

"Hides?" Mal's head went up.

"There's a few places, out beyond the town, folks've built. Mainly in case of Reavers, but there's also the occasional …" He stopped, and Mal wondered what he had been about to say. "They're bolt-holes, well-hidden, got some supplies in too. Pete knows where they are."

"Any out near the fishing hole?"

"One. Bit further on."

"Then you come with us. The rest of yours can check the other hides."

"Sure." He looked to his wife. "Ellie, better get us some provisions. There's no telling how long we're gonna be gone."

"Good idea, Pa," Kaylee said approvingly. "Come on. I'll help."

Mal waited until Ellie Frye had gone into the house. "We don't need food."

"No. But she needs something to do."

"I understand. Do you have any hassle with slavers or the like?" Mal asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Not really. Port Control's got a pretty good lock on things, seeing as we service ships, but that don't mean someone can't land out in the hills and then walk or ride in. I just don't see the point, not to take just two men."

"Me neither."

"Look, I can get the rest of the family here in less than an hour," Eddie said, rubbing his damp palms down his pants. "We can cover a bigger area."

"That won't be necessary."

Eddie swallowed. "You mean –"

"Don't mean a thing. Just that we need to get going."

The elder Frye nodded, pushing his anxiety back down. "Boys, get the guns."

* * *

Mal, Freya, Zoe and Eddie moved smoothly towards the fishing hole, four pairs of eyes ranging, sometimes on the horizon, sometimes on the ground under their feet.

"You really think something's happened to them," Eddie said at one point.

"Can't say." Mal focused on something moving a ways off, but it was just a lone cow, munching on the dry grass.

"Can't or won't?"

Mal looked at the older man. "Eddie, we've had some trouble of late. Not just what you've been told, but … I don't know. Maybe we've brought it with us. I'm just hoping not."

"Me too." Eddie couldn't help the slight shudder that ran through him. "Me too."

Soon they came on the stream, the water barely moving under a thick layer of weed.

Mal held up a hand and they stopped. "How far?"

"Coupla hundred yards. Just beyond that stand of trees there."

"Spread out."

Doing as instructed, they walked slowly forwards, every sense on alert. Then Freya darted forward, falling to her knees. "Mal."

"What?" He ran to her side then drew up sharply. She was holding the broken remains of a fishing rod.

"_Cao_."

"And another," Zoe called, reaching into the reeds by the water.

"Well, least we know they were here."

"Here's their pack." Eddie squatted down under the trees, opening up the wicker basket. "Whatever happened, they didn't have a chance to eat or drink anything. Pete'd be sure to put the beer in to cool, 'cept it's still here." He grunted and lifted out something else. "Here's your com, too."

"Zoe, remind me to post a notice, will you? Folks carry coms on their person from now on."

"I'll do that, sir." She was studying the ground around them, her face as inscrutable as ever. At least, to anyone who didn't know her. "The dirt's kicked up here, but there's no way of knowing how long ago."

Mal dropped to his heels. "Looks to me like there was maybe four or five men." He touched the dirt. "You can see their boot prints. Jayne might pick up more, but –"

"No. They took them." Freya was staring at the broken rod in her hand.

"You sure?"

"They followed them from the house, but …" She shook her head.

"Nothing else?"

"No. Just fog."

Eddie was looking from one to the other. "You seeing this?" he asked. "You know where they took Pete?"

Freya gazed at him. "I wish I did," she said sincerely. "But I still can't … since the measles …"

"It's okay," Mal said gently.

She threw the rod down. "No, it isn't. What's the point in being psychic if all I get are flashes?" Her hands were fists. "I can't focus, I can't tie anything down …"

"Frey." Just her name, only one word, but it was enough. She took a deep breath, holding it for as long as she could before releasing it slowly through her nostrils, letting the anger slip with it. Mal smiled, just a little. _Good girl_. He turned back to Eddie. "Come on. Not much point in checking the hide. We'd better get back and decide what we're gonna do next."

* * *

By the time the rest of the searchers were back, the sun was dropping behind the hills.

"Nothing, Mal," Cal Frye said. "Sorry."

"Didn't expect there to be. Looks like they were taken as they got to the fishing hole. For what reason, well, that's more unclear." He glanced at the family standing silent, surrounding Ellie Frye, Kaylee still holding her hand. "I'd have to say, it's probably because of us. We've got enough enemies in this quadrant, and I'd conjure one of 'em has decided to do something other than sit and whine." He took a deep breath and looked at Eddie. "And to that end it'd be better if your folks went home soon as you can, and you to pack up what you need for tonight. We're all going back to Serenity 'til morning."

Eddie shook his head. "I ain't leaving my house, Mal."

"It's safer on board."

"That's as maybe, but I ain't running. And we don't know it's safe. You don't know it was Hank was the target. Could be they were after Pete. Stranger things've happened."

"Oh, I think that's fair certain. But that just makes it me more determined to keep you and yours safe. Lost too many good friends lately to take the chance." His mind supplied an image of a bright explosion in the blackest sky, and memories of collecting body parts …

"I appreciate the concern. But no-one's driving us out. Cal and some of the other men'll stay with us. We'll be okay."

Mal glared at him, but could see the determination in his face, a determination he recognised from his daughter. He understood. He didn't approve, but he understood. "Jayne, River. You'll stay," he ordered. "We'll take Caleb back to Serenity with us."

"I'll bring him," the big man said. "I wanna pick up more guns anyway."

"Shiny."

"Then what?" Kaylee asked. "What're you planning?"

Mal saw the expression on her face, the hope that he would come through like he always did, and he couldn't tell her he had no idea. "Oh, something, _mei-mei_. Definitely something."

* * *

No-one felt particularly like eating, although Kaylee insisted on preparing a meal from the food Ellie Frye had got ready for the party. But after some stilted conversation, and sideways glances to the empty seats, she and Simon had taken their daughters back to their rooms.

"I'll put ours to bed," Freya said, shooing them off their seats. "And Ben can bunk in with Ethan."

"Mama?" The little boy looked at his mother, his coffee skin glowing in the soft light.

"That's okay," she said. "Kiss me goodnight and be good for your Auntie Frey."

Ben climbed onto his seat and gently touched his lips to her cheek. "Daddy be okay," he said softly, but it was difficult to say whether it was a demand or a promise.

"Of course he will." Zoe smiled and kissed him back. "Now, hurry on to bed."

"Yes, Mama."

Freya let her hand lay on Mal's shoulder for a moment. "Don't be too long."

"Wasn't intending to be." He smiled at her, knowing exactly what she was doing.

After a minute or two, hearing the hatch close above his bunk, Mal looked at Zoe. "The kids were quiet tonight."

"That they were."

"Even Bethie."

"Mmn."

"Not sure I can handle her being all quiet like she was."

"No."

"Scary."

"Yes."

"Considering she talks nineteen to the dozen most days. More."

"Mmn."

He exhaled heavily. "Hell, Zoe, you're gonna have to work harder at this conversation."

"I'm fine."

"Didn't say you weren't, but you talking to Ben was the most I've heard you say all evening." He held up a hand. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Not with your husband being missing n'all."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Zoe …"

She took a deep breath. "Sir, I have to believe he's fine. And I know why you wouldn't answer Kaylee. We're just going to have to wait, aren't we?"

He leaned back. "Truth is, we could search 'til doomsday and never find 'em. But if someone's taken 'em for a reason, they're gonna want to tell us. Rub it into our faces. And soon as they do, I'll visit such righteous anger on them they won't know what's hit them."

"Is that a promise?"

"It is."

She pushed her chair back and stood up. "Then I know he'll come home."

Mal shook his head. "You got such faith in me, Zoe?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" She walked out of the galley, her head high.

He watched her head to the bridge, and found he wasn't surprised. He doubted she'd even consider sleeping until her husband was back on board.

* * *

He woke from a dream where he was chasing someone, or maybe being chased himself, to find he was alone in the bed. When he'd finally turned off the lights and climbed down the ladder, he'd found Freya was already under the covers, her eyes tight shut. He'd taken off his boots but nothing else, and climbed in next to her. He expected to lie awake for hours, going over every detail, seeing what else he could have done, what signs there had been that he'd ignored, but he slid into sleep.

Now, though, he sat up and wondered where his wife was. He didn't bother rebooting, just tugged his suspenders back over his shoulders and went searching. It didn't take long – she was in the cargo bay using Jayne's weights.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her from the top catwalk as she raised and lowered the barbell, its rhythm almost hypnotic.

"Couldn't … sleep." Each word was punctuated by a lift of the bar.

He started down the stairs. "Don't you usually tell me when you can't?"

"I didn't … want to … wake you."

"Who said I was asleep?"

"You were snoring."

"Faking it. Just so's I wouldn't succumb to your primal urges."

She chuckled, and had to force the bar up into the cradle rather than have it crash to her chest. She sat up and glared at him. "That could've been nasty. You shouldn't try and make someone laugh when they're bench pressing."

"And you shouldn't be doing it without a spotter, either." He stepped down onto the bay floor. "And I mean it. You should tell me if you can't sleep."

"Maybe I didn't want to succumb to your primal urges, either."

He smiled, just a lift of the lips. "I doubt anyone on board's doing that right now. Or sleeping," he added quickly.

"No." She wiped her neck with her towel. "Not even Jesse."

"Oh?" He looked up towards their bunk. "How come?"

"Ethan and Ben are talking. She got fed up and is playing with one of her dolls."

"You can see that?"

Freya nodded. "Not much else, though. Just us. My family."

"You know, that's more'n most parents can do. More than I can."

She looked shrewdly at him. "But if you're used to being able to keep tabs on people, even if it's just have an idea where they are …"

"Peeking's bad. Bethie keeps telling you."

"And she's worse than all of us. It irritates her no end that she can't read everyone at the moment."

"We'll find him, Frey. Him and Pete." He sat next to her on the bench, putting his arm around her. "You know we will."

She leaned into him. "You promised Zoe."

"And I try and keep my promises."

"And I'm all sweaty," she pointed out.

"So? If I can't put up with a little sweat on my wife, I ain't that much of a loving husband, am I?"

She smiled. "And you are certainly that."

He kissed her, his lips soft on hers. "You feel like you can get some sleep yet?"

"Well, I …" She stopped. "What was that?" she asked.

"What?"

She pulled back a little, her head on one side, listening hard. "That."

Mal narrowed his eyes as he tried to … There. A scratching, almost like … "Someone's outside."

Freya leaned over and picked up the shotgun she'd kept by her, then stood up, ratcheting a shell into the breach. "Ready."

He couldn't help the flash of pride that burned through him as he strode to the controls, knowing she was taking up position at his back. He pushed down on the button to lower the ramp, keeping the inner airlock doors closed. Then he peered through the small windows.

For a long moment there was nothing, and it occurred to him that perhaps he'd managed to catch whoever it was under the ramp itself, but he disregarded that. Surely they could have moved fast enough to get out of the … Wait. There. Something on the edge of the light spilling from the Firefly.

"_Tzao gao._" Crossing back to the controls in two strides he slammed his hand down onto the control to open the inner doors, at the same time activating the com. "Simon! Cargo bay. Now!"


	4. Chapter 4

The cargo bay doors slid open, but not fast enough for Mal. He slipped through a gap not wide enough, and banged his elbow on the thick metal, but he ignored the pins and needles it set up down his arm. Instead he skidded to a halt in his stocking feet at the bottom of the ramp.

"Hank?"

The pilot gave a shaky smile as he helped support Peter Frye. "We're okay, Mal," he said, his speech somewhat slurred. "Well, maybe not okay, but we're not hurt particularly." The young man almost slipped from his shoulder, but Mal was there in a moment, taking his weight, letting Hank gather himself. "Thanks."

Freya had followed her husband and was staring out into the darkness, her shotgun still cocked. "Is there anyone still out there?" she asked.

"Just us chickens," Hank said, tripping and falling to his hands and knees. "_Chun ben_."

"Stay there," Simon called, pulling a sweater on over his sweat pants as he ran through the bay.

"Don't think I can move far, doc." Hank tried to grin but it wasn't quite right, twisting his mouth as it did. "And I think a marathon is out of the question."

"Pete?" Kaylee was behind him, and tried to dart out but Mal's voice stopped her.

"Kaylee, call Jayne," Mal said quickly. "Get him to bring your folks here. We'll look to your brother."

The young mechanic glared at him but his tone was the one he used when he expected to be obeyed, no matter what. "I'll be right back," she promised Pete, running up the stairs towards the bridge, crossing with Zoe as she ran down, her gun in her hand.

Simon was already examining Hank. "No major wounds or anything?" he asked.

"Nope. Nothing that a few weeks sleep won't cure."

"Headache? Any –"

"Doc," Mal interrupted. "Can we do this in the infirmary? Pete ain't exactly a lightweight, and I'd rather we all got out of the light soon as we can. Seeing as we're very pretty targets right now."

"Oh. Yes, I'm sorry." Simon lifted Hank to his feet. "Can you walk?"

"Got this far, didn't I?" He looked into Zoe's face. "Hi, honey."

"Can't let you go out alone at all without you getting into trouble, can I?"

"Nope. Think you'd better come with me wherever I go from now on."

"I think maybe I should." She touched his face, and it was all Hank could do not to throw his arms around her and kiss her.

"Zoe?" Mal again.

"Sir?"

"A hand wouldn't go amiss."

"Sir." She ran her thumb across Hank's lips just once, then went to take some of Pete's weight.

As they all headed for the infirmary, Freya closed the cargo bay doors behind them, but stayed put, waiting for Jayne and River to bring the Fryes along.

* * *

"Hop up," Simon said, leaning Hank against the medbed as he busied himself getting bits and pieces out of the cupboard.

"Hop?" Hank laughed, sounding more normal. "Man in my condition can't hop. 'Sides, I think you need to see to Pete here first." The humour dropped out of him. "He was conscious earlier, but he seems to be out of it again."

Simon looked up, concern on his smooth features as Mal and Zoe deposited Pete on the bed, lifting his legs up. "How long's he been out?" he asked, opening a drawer with a jerk.

"I don't know." Hank let Zoe help him onto the side counter. "Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen?"

Simon ran his portable sensor across Pete's chest, and his face tightened. "He's having a reaction to whatever it is they used on you."

"Oh, no." This was from Kaylee, staring into the infirmary, her hand to her mouth.

"Some of his systems are affected and are shutting down. I need to …" He turned back to the cupboards, pushing various bottles out of the way.

Mal stepped outside, blocking Kaylee's view. "He'll be fine, _mei-mei_. You know that husband of yours is the best there is."

She tried to see past him, but he wouldn't let her. "I know," she murmured. "But I want to be with Pete."

"Simon's looking to him."

She glared at him. "He's my brother!"

"And there's more'n enough people around him at the moment. I need you to keep a cool head, _dong mah_?"

She bit back the sharp words she wanted to use, telling herself that this was her captain, that she trusted him implicitly, and he just wanted to shield her from anything bad. So instead of sniping at him she just said, "_Dang rahn_."

"Good. Your folks on their way?"

"Before Jayne could even sign off."

"Then why don't you go wait in the bay for 'em? Keep Frey company."

"Cap –"

"Go on. They'll be here soon, from what you said. You can tell 'em they're both alive, at least."

"But –"

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Do this for me, Kaylee."

Her gaze flicked up to his face, then she nodded. "Call me if anything …"

"You know it." With a single glance back into the infirmary, she scampered off to wait for her family, and Mal turned towards a little figure hiding around the corner by the lower crew quarters. "And you go on back to bed too."

Bethie shook her head. "Want to make sure everyone's all right."

"And your sis needs you."

"But Uncle Mal –"

"No buts. You know damn well you'll know soon as we do, if not sooner."

She looked ready to argue, but then her shoulders slumped and she slouched back to her room. "And you shouldn't swear," her voice opined pitifully.

He had to smile, even if it was just a swift lift of the lips.

Simon, in the meantime, had quickly prepared and injected a clear green liquid into the young man's neck. "This is a broad antihistamine. If it doesn't work it'll take time to analyse whatever they used, find the right treatment."

"Doc, if I'd known, I would have asked," Hank said, feeling Zoe slip her hand into his.

"How long does it take, Simon?" Mal asked, watching him work.

"A few minutes. If it's going to."

Mal turned to Hank. "Then you can tell me what the hell happened out there."

"I wish I knew," his pilot said apologetically. "There we were, minding our own business, just got to the fishing hole, and … that's it. Nothing. Not 'til I woke up in the dark and thought I was dead and buried." He looked at Zoe. "Grateful I ain't, though."

"No more than me," she said softly, only loud enough for him to hear, but it warmed him through. Maybe she really had forgiven him for breaking his word, and nearly getting hanged back on Newhall.

"No-one came up to you, no mules or nothing?" Mal pressed.

"Nothing. I was looking at the water, trying to see if they were biting, and …" He stopped, and his hand raised to his neck. "Something bit _me_."

Simon quickly moved closer, examining the area. "Looks like a dart." He went back to Pete, lifting away his slightly longer hair. "Here too."

"How did you get away?" Zoe asked, her thumb rubbing circles on Hank's skin.

"We didn't. I told you, I woke up in the dark. Took me forever just to open my eyes, then I managed to roll over, found Pete next to me. He was muttering something, then went out again."

"Where did they dump you?"

"Outside."

Mal straightened up. "What?"

"Outside." Hank hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "Maybe ten yards from our own front door."

He scowled. All the time he and Frey were talking, maybe longer … "Go on."

"That's it. I managed to get him to his feet, tried to remember the code to get in … and you damn near brained me with the ramp."

"If I had I'm not sure we'd've been able to tell the difference."

"Hey, that's not nice," Hank complained tiredly then tried to smile. "And I was about to say the same thing."

"Someone had to," Zoe said, glaring at her captain.

Mal was about to make some snappy rejoinder, but it fled from his mind as the man on the medbed groaned.

"Peter?" Simon leaned forward, shining a small torch into his eyes.

The young man tried to bat his hand away and wrinkled his face up. "_Cao_," he muttered. "You trying to blind me or something too?"

The tension in the infirmary lessened by several degrees, and in response Simon put the torch down and picked up his stethoscope. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." Pete tried to sit up but failed. "Anyone get the number of that mule that hit me?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask Hank that." He opened Pete's shirt a few buttons and put the stethoscope's earpieces in.

Pete's eyebrow raised slightly. "Hey, I ain't that way inclined."

"I won't look." Simon smiled and recommenced his examination.

"Mal." Hank spoke quietly.

"Yeah?"

"There is this." Hank reached into this pocket and pulled out a capture tab. "Found it in here when I woke up. And before you ask, it's not mine."

Mal took it from his fingers, turning it over and over, the thing that had crawled up his spine now kicking him solidly in the hindbrain.

At that moment half the entire Frye clan clattered down the steps into the common area, although most of them hung back as Ellie and Eddie ran forward, stopping only when they were inside the infirmary.

"Peter?" his mother asked, barely vocalising.

"I do something wrong?" the young man asked, looking over at her. "Only you only ever call me Peter when I'm about to get a whupping from you."

"I do not!" she said vehemently, then showed she was lying by stepping smartly up to the bed and hitting him on the arm. "Well, not since you got so tall. And what do you mean, going off and getting yourself snatched like that?"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea." He winced as Simon drew a syringe full of blood. "And it wasn't just me."

"And I intend to have words with Hank too," Ellie threatened, her eyes full of unshed tears, then Eddie put his hands on his wife's shoulders and squeezed gently.

Mal walked out of the infirmary, the Fryes parting to let him through, and continued up the stairs. Freya, Jayne and River were standing at the entrance to the cargo bay, able to see enough to know that both men were all right.

"What's that?" Freya asked softly, looking at the tab Mal was still holding.

"I think we need to find out. That portable Cortex link to hand?"

"In the galley."

"Sir?" Zoe had followed him, Kaylee at her side.

Making a fist around the tab, he said, "Come on. I think it's time for a council of war."

* * *

"Ready?" Freya asked, sitting down at the old wooden table and booting the Cortex screen up.

Mal nodded and handed over the tab. She inserted it into the side and touched PLAY on the screen. It went black for a moment, then there was a flash of static before it cleared, and even then there was a few seconds of uncontrolled motion, as if the person taking the capture wasn't used to it, before it steadied. The quality still wasn't good, but it was sharp enough.

"Cap'n …" Kaylee had to swallow hard, reminding herself that Pete and Hank were safe down in the infirmary and not as the capture showed them, lying on hard-packed dirt, eyes closed, bodies limp.

"_So easy." _A voice, unrecognisable, nothing more than hissed sibilants. _"Any time, Captain Reynolds. Any time. Anyone."_ The picture changed to one of Freya carrying Jesse back on board Serenity, Ethan walking at her side. _"Anyone at all."_ The screen went back to static.

Mal felt his heartbeat quicken. His family … "That's it?"

"That's it," Freya confirmed, her own palms damp.

"Today," Jayne put in. "That last bit. They took that today. Jesse's carrying that new doll Ms Frye bought her."

"Yeah." Mal took a deep breath. "Play it again."

It didn't take long to run through it a second time, nor a third.

"Can we trace anything off the tab?" Zoe asked, her hand on the butt of her gun.

"No," River said quietly. "Standard type, low memory. Cheap. Available anywhere."

"DNA? Fingerprints?"

"I can ask Simon to swab it," Kaylee responded. "But it's been in Hank's pocket, and he ain't the only one handled it."

"Besides," Mal added, "you really think people who'd do this're gonna be caught out by something that simple?"

"I think I'd like to meet them in a dark alley and explain a few things to them," Zoe replied.

"You and me both." He looked at her above Freya's head. "Someone's sending us a message, Zoe."

"Well, I'd have to say we're listening."

"Any idea what they're sayin'?" Jayne asked.

Mal shook his head. "Damned if I know. But one thing's for sure – we're getting off Phoros soon as we can."

"But –" Kaylee began to object, but he put his hand on her arm.

"_Mei-mei_, if someone's after us, I've already put your family in harm's way. Could've been we might've just found a couple of corpses, rather than two breathing men, and that would've been worse." He looked into her brown eyes. "I ain't endangering your kin any more, Kaylee. In fact, it might be better if –"

"Don't!" she interrupted. "You say you think I'd be better off staying with them, and I'll lay into you with one of my wrenches, I promise I will."

He looked into her eyes, about as angry as he had ever seen them, and heard Freya's voice in his mind.

_It'll be mutiny if you try to put her off._

_I want her safe, ai ren._

_Who says she won't be, staying with us? They took Hank and Pete from under our noses. Leaving Kaylee here might be just what they want._

Jayne looked from Mal to Frey, then allowed his lips to curl. "You wanna have a conversation without us, go ahead," he said, stomping across the kitchen to the cupboards. "Just let the rest of us know when you've decided what we're gonna do."

"I'm not leaving, Mal," Kaylee said firmly, using his given name for emphasis. "What if something goes wrong with Serenity? Who've you got to fix her?"

He put his hand on her arm, once more positive she was the sister he never had. "It's okay. I won't try. But we've all got to be careful, 'til we figure out who's doing this. That means being sensible and not going anywhere we don't have to."

"So what are we going to do, sir?" Zoe asked.

He exhaled, long and slow. "We've got a little cash saved, enough to lay low for a week or so, but I'm not inclined to do that. If someone wants us that bad, all they have to do is wait us out. Have to take a job sometime." He crossed his arms. "Better if we get a bit more active, see if we can't flush the rats." He looked down at Freya. "Think Dillon might be able to help?"

She stood up. "I can try. He's got a lot of contacts, and they keep their ears to the ground."

"Wave him."

"What if someone's listening in?" Jayne asked gruffly.

"They know where we are already," Mal pointed out. "And we'll scramble it best we can."

"And I'll be circumspect," Freya said. "We know each other too well not to guess when something's wrong." She walked out of the galley towards the bridge.

Mal looked at Kaylee. "Best go see if your husband knows when Pete's gonna be okay to move. If he needs doctoring –"

"I'll find out." The young mechanic ran the other way.

"Got a bad feeling about this," Jayne growled.

"Not the only one," Zoe agreed.

Mal looked down at the last image on the portable screen, frozen on Freya carrying Jesse. _Not gonna happen_, he said to himself.

River stood quietly, her eyes gazing into nothing, and only Jayne noticed a shudder run through her slight frame.


	5. Chapter 5

Simon insisted that Peter Frye stay in the infirmary for twenty-four hours in case there were complications from the drug that had knocked him and Hank out so effectively. He'd finally managed, from the blood he'd taken, to identify it as something called Jutoprocaine, which worried him.

"It's almost exclusive to Alliance hospitals, in the psych wards," he told Mal. "Its immediate effect is useful in subduing aggressive patients, but the side effects can be disquieting."

"The allergic reaction? Like Pete had?" Mal spoke quietly as they stood in the common area outside the infirmary. "But it didn't affect Hank."

"They were lucky," was all Simon would say.

"Alliance." Mal hitched his thumbs into his pockets. "But you said it was only _almost_ exclusive?"

"Well, no drug remains under lock and key forever," Simon explained. "No matter what it is there's someone willing to pay a price for it, to try and get a high."

"Does it? Make you high?"

"In tiny amounts, yes. It also destroys your kidneys, pulmonary system, attacks the –"

Mal held up a hand. "I get the picture."

"That's why I wanted to keep Peter under observation."

"In case something else came up."

"Yes."

"And now?"

Simon glanced back through the window, looking into the cool blue room to where Kaylee was laughing and joking with her brother. "He can go home. I can leave a syringe of the antihistamine with him, but I doubt sincerely he'll need to use it."

"Look, if you ain't sure he's gonna be okay –"

The young doctor crossed his arms. "I'm sure."

"Anyone would think you didn't wanna spend time with your in-laws," Mal commented, walking out of the common area, a smile on his face.

As he reached the bridge, though, Freya was waiting. "I just got a wave back from Dillon."

"And?"

"We need to meet with him. He was clear on that, at least to me. He has information we need."

"Meet?" Mal's smile switched off. "Persephone ain't exactly my most favourite place right now, Frey. Too many Alliance." He held up a hand. "I know I said we needed to be going out there, finding out who's chasing us, but there's a difference between being hands-on and being stupid."

"And you're never that."

"Not knowingly, no. Well, not that often."

"Anyway, who said Persephone?" She chuckled. "Dillon suggested a place we both know. Where we first met, in fact."

"And where would that be?"

* * *

It was difficult leaving the Fryes, but considering what had happened in the short time since they arrived Mal knew he was doing the right thing. Even watching Kaylee saying goodbye to her mother brought a lump to his throat that he couldn't quite swallow back.

"You take care, you hear?" Ellie said, hugging Kaylee tightly. "'Specially now."

"Now? Why now?"

"You'll see."

"Ma, you seen something I need to –"

"Kaylee, now, you know I don't talk about things like that." She pushed her daughter away enough so she could look into her face. "But it won't be long."

"Ma –"

"I'm sorry, Kaylee, but we have to go." Simon, glancing at Mal and seeing him tapping his metaphorical foot, smiled apologetically.

Ellie squeezed gently. "Go, go." She kissed Kaylee's cheek then let go and stood back. "Keep that family of yours safe."

"I will."

"And you do the same," Ellie said, glaring at Mal. "I hear something bad's come to pass, and I'll tan your hide, grown man or not."

"I'll look forward to it," Mal responded, making her laugh out loud.

And now they were on their way, Kaylee in the engine room checking over her baby and probably having something of a little cry at the same time, while Simon counted the dressings and suture kits in the infirmary. Jayne and River were in their shuttle, but the rest of the crew were on the bridge watching the sky turning black.

Hank adjusted their course, taking them away from Phoros and out into deep space. He blinked hard several times.

"Honey?" Zoe asked quietly.

"I'm okay," he said, glancing up into her dark face, seeing the concern there. "Just a little double-vision. It's going away now anyway."

Mal moved forward a step. "If you ain't fit to fly –"

"I didn't say that," the pilot insisted. "Hell, I can take off and land with my eyes closed."

"Sure feels like you do sometimes."

"Oh, ha, very funny." Hank adjusted the engine burn-through. "And I wasn't the one with the problems."

"Pete'll be okay," Freya said, sitting in the co-pilot's chair. "Mrs Frye isn't going to let him out of her sight for some time."

"A grown man, under the thumb of his Ma." Hank chuckled.

"Do you think Ben's going to be any different?" Freya raised an eyebrow at him, and Hank looked guiltily up at Zoe.

"How it should be," Mal put in, his arms crossed in front of him. "But that don't get away from the fact someone took the pair of you, and I'm feeling more than a little bemused as to why they let you go without harm."

"I'm pretty grateful for that," Hank said quickly.

"The point is they could've done anything, from torture to just shooting you dead. But whoever's doing this wants us to sweat." He shook his head. "I'm just hoping Dillon has some decent news for us."

"And to that end, I'm kinda wondering what our destination is." Hank half-turned in his seat. "Much as I like seeing where your wit and whimsy takes us, I'm presuming we actually do have someplace to go."

"We do. Ephesus."

"That half-assed place?"

"Not my choice." Mal turned his blue gaze onto Freya. "Seems my wife here and Dillon met on that sorry piece of rock, only that's all she's told me."

"You sure he's sly?"

"Lately I ain't been sure of anything."

Freya smiled sweetly and stood up. "Since it's going to take us the best part of two days to get there, I'm going to prepare for lessons." She looked at Zoe. "If you wouldn't mind getting the children together in a few minutes."

"Of course." The first mate watched as her friend left the bridge. "She really hasn't told you about her adventures, sir?"

"Nope." If anything, Mal's arms were tighter than ever. "Not a damn word."

"You could always try ordering her to."

"Since when did that work? With any of you?" Mal groused and hurried after his wife.

Hank laughed, working out the destination and quickest route. "Can we go along and eavesdrop?"

"They're not going to fight." Zoe lowered herself into the still warm chair.

"No?"

"No."

"Pity. How come she ain't told him, though?" Hank glanced up. "I mean, thought they didn't have secrets?"

"You know as well as me we all have secrets. All of us."

He didn't need to look to see the expression in her eyes. "I guess we do. 'Cept some of us are trying to change."

"I know." Her voice had softened, and when he did raise his head, he was relieved beyond measure to see her smiling at him. "I know," she repeated.

Outside in the corridor Mal smiled. He knew he shouldn't really be listening in to a private conversation, but sometimes he heard stuff that made his job as captain easier. Besides, there were occasions when he wondered whether eavesdropping was the only thing he was good at. Still, he was glad he had this time. Since Newhall, there had been moments when he had the notion Zoe was trying to come to a decision, and he worried it might be one that left him without a pilot, but from what he'd just heard, it sounded as if she'd forgiven him. Maybe getting kidnapped had helped.

Satisfied that Hank didn't have a date with the airlock today, he sauntered into the galley, where Freya was setting up the portable Cortex link. He watched her for a moment, then said, "Can you make do without that thing? In your lessons."

She looked up in surprise. "The screen?"

"Yeah." He crossed the room to stand next to her. "I know it sounds crazy, and you can get Simon to dope me if you like, but I'm kinda wondering if this ain't how they tracked us."

"Using the Cortex?"

"They had to know where we were, Frey. It ain't like they had someone waiting on every planet we've ever been, so they either followed us or they knew where we were gonna be. The former ain't likely, 'cause Hank's too good at his job not to notice, so I tend to think it's the latter."

"That would mean they hacked the system, figured out our individual address ... Mal, the Cortex code is supposed to be unbreakable."

"You believe that?"

"About as much as I believe in Santa Claus."

He smiled slightly and slid his arm around her waist. "And I thought he brought you to me."

"There is that." She put her head onto one side. "You really think they're capable of pulling off something like this?"

"Honestly? No. But I just don't want to test the theory more'n I have to."

"Then I'll make do with something else." She smiled. "And before you ask, we were hiding."

He looked confused. "What?"

"Me and Dillon."

"You been peeking again?"

"No. But you don't cover up the fact that you're curious."

"Not curious. Just ... interested."

"Nosy."

"Look, just tell me."

She grinned. "Well, my old boss on the Lancaster said we were just taking a break, but we – the rest of the crew – figured someone wasn't too pleased with the job we'd just pulled, and we were having to lie low. I met Dillon one evening in church."

His eyebrows raised. "Church? But I didn't think you –"

"No more I did. Or do. But it was the one quiet place in town where I could sit and think, decide what I was going to do."

"You mean join up or not?"

"Hmmn."

"I didn't know you were acquainted with Dillon before the war."

"Lot of things you don't know about me, Mal."

"Ain't that the truth." His eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. You told me you introduced him and Breed, and that you knew the latter first."

"And that's true. I already knew Breed." She moved out of his embrace and sat down. "Don't you want to hear the story?"

He pulled his chair out quickly and dropped into it. "Now I've finally gotten you talking about it? A'course I do."

"Breed was on the Lancaster too, working his passage until he could get home. I think I was the only one on board who knew he was sly."

"He trusted you."

"Not quite sure why."

"He probably just looked at you and fell in love, even a little bit."

"Mal, the man likes other men."

"So?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Anyway, Dillon was on Ephesus doing pretty much the same as us, only he was in the church to pray. We got talking."

"What about?"

"Things. Nothing in particular. Just talking."

"Why do I get the feeling you ain't quite telling me the whole truth?"

"Not sure. So we talked for hours, and after that we kept in touch."

"You didn't pimp Breed out then?"

She hit him on the arm. "You're disgusting."

"But you love me."

"Sometimes I wonder. And no, I didn't. I didn't introduce them for another six months, when I knew I could trust Dillon, and just before I signed on the dotted line and lost six years of my life."

Mal leaned forward. "Found me, though."

She copied him. "And that took even more time."

"Sorry 'bout that. Can't help being stupid sometimes."

"As long as you've come to your senses now."

"You come down to our bunk and I'll show you ..."

Their lips touched, and as much as they knew and understood each other, it was like the first time again.

Someone coughed.

"I think your students have arrived," Mal said, hardly moving back at all.

Freya grinned. "I think you're right."

"Auntie Zoe, how come Uncle Mal and Auntie Frey're always kissing?" Bethie asked.

"I think you'd have to ask them that," Serenity's first mate said, adding dryly, "Only if I were you I'd wait a few years."

* * *

Kaylee spread out the tiny parts on her workbench, each one on its own lint-free piece of cloth. Something this small, even a bit of fluff could stop it working properly, and she wasn't going to have that. Not for the two beacons she had in mind. With what happened to Hank and Pete, she was determined to have them ready for when they landed next.

As she moved them about, deciding what would be best where, she let her mind wander over who could be after them. It wasn't like they didn't have enemies, people who'd prefer them dead than flying. Not that the Cap'd let anything happen to them. Not a one. He'd be out there, Jayne and Zoe at his side, Frey too, taking down the bad guys 'fore anyone could say _interengine fermentation product._

She almost wished she could, too. Wear a gun and protect her family. Not that she hadn't at times, but she knew her heart wasn't in it. The Cap was right – better she stay behind the scenes and make sure Serenity stayed healthy.

She reached out for the microdrill, then stopped, staring at her hand. It was shaking slightly. She shook it, tightened her fingers into a fist, then tried again. Nope, still shaking. And now a wave of nausea was creeping up on her, making her insides clench.

Kaylee sighed and let her hand fall back to her side. Probably all the tension, she decided. Just breathe through it and ... "Gorramit." That same hand was now jammed over her mouth as she ran down the stairs for the passenger dorm bathroom, barely making it before she threw up her breakfast.

"Kaylee?" It was Simon. "Are you okay?"

She sat back against the wall, feeling the cool tiles against her fevered skin. "Shiny," she managed to say.

"No, you're not. Were you just sick?"

"It ain't nothing, Simon." She pulled herself to her feet and ran some water into the basin, splashing her face.

"I want you to come to the infirmary."

She closed her eyes, then looked at her reflection in the mirror. Sometimes being married to a doctor, even one as cute as Simon, was really annoying. "I'm okay. Honest. Just ... stress." Yes. Good word. That might put him off.

It didn't.

"I want to check your blood pressure."

"Don't need it, honey."

"Remember when I said I thought Serenity was making an odd noise? What did you tell me?"

Her reflection pouted. "That I was the mechanic and you were the doctor and you shouldn't go talking about something you don't know about."

"Exactly. And I worry about you, _bao bei_. So two minutes, in the infirmary. Or I'll tell Mal to come and get you."

"That ain't nice."

"Not being nice would be telling Jayne."

He must have walked away because it went quiet outside.

Kaylee watched as her lips muttered something obscene. Women's problems. That's what she should have said. He would have left her alone if she'd said that. Except he knew exactly when she was ... Her eyes widened.


	6. Chapter 6

Mal leaned on the wall, watching his wife teach. Although she hadn't been too easy with it at first, she'd got into the swing of things now, and it was fun to see her cope with five children of different ages. She'd found the knack of keeping them interested and entertained at the same time as they learned things, particularly as they all seemed to be highly intelligent. Bethie was obviously gifted, coming from the bloodline she did, but he couldn't help the swell of pride at knowing his own children appeared to have inherited more than just his good looks.

Not that it stopped the occasional argument.

"But Auntie River said that on at least three planets magnetic north has changed."

"Bethie –"

"But if that happened wouldn't it mean everything falls off?"

"No, that –"

"Or maybe everything would be upside down, and then we'd all be walking on our –"

"Bethie!" Freya took a deep breath. "Thank you for that input, but I think we can move on now, don't you?"

Mal couldn't help the smile that drifted across his lips. Sometimes the little girl was all too much like her aunt, although from the look on her face he couldn't swear she wasn't doing it deliberately as she swung her feet under the table just above Fiddler. Ethan was certainly grinning widely.

_You're doing good, xin gan_, he thought carefully towards Freya.

She rolled her eyes a little. _Can't I just face Reavers and be done with it?_

He laughed at the pleading in her mental voice, then saw Ethan glaring at him.

"Use words," the little boy said firmly.

Mal turned the laugh into a cough. "Think I might be needing something for this frog in my throat," he commented, heading out of the door towards the bridge. At the turn for the stairs he came face to face with Jayne.

"Mal." He seemed anxious, at least for an ex-mercenary.

"I was when I got up this morning." Jayne didn't react except to draw his brows together a little. Mal sighed inwardly and added, "What can I do for you?"

The big man stepped closer, somewhat diffidently. "You gotta go see River."

"How come?"

"She ... she knows something."

Mal felt his scalp crawl. "About who's after us?"

"'Xactly." He glanced behind him, as if afraid his slip of a wife was listening around the corner. Turning back to Mal, he leaned in. "She was dreamin' last night, and woke up all 'fraid. Took me an age to calm her down."

"Why do you think she was dreaming about the fellers who took Hank?"

"What she was saying in her sleep. Talking about drugs and darts and such." He lowered his voice even more. "Asked her about it, but she said I was wrong, that it was just a nightmare." He shook his head. "I think she knows, only she ain't tellin'."

"And you think she's more likely to tell me?"

"You know how she thinks on you."

"Jayne, I'm not sure playing the surrogate father card's gonna work." He saw the big man open his mouth, about to argue, and held up his hand. "But I'll go and talk to her. If'n she has any idea about these _hwoon dahns_, I need to know."

* * *

River sat on the bed, Caleb on the blankets in front of her. He was asleep, his entire body relaxed. Barely six months old, but she loved him more than she had ever imagined she could. Child of her body. Hers and Jayne's.

People often talked about Jayne being simple, but they meant it as an insult. She, on the other hand, understood his simplicity, that it was another way of saying he had strength of purpose, a clarity of vision, and that it was what allowed him to give himself to her entirely, without holding anything back. He would never be anything less than he showed her, and his love, so entire that it wrapped her in its embrace, made her thrill every time she even thought of him.

Caleb stretched, his little fists reaching out, a whimper escaping his throat, but just a touch of her mind calmed him, and he slid deeper into sleep. She smiled. So small, so helpless, and yet he'd wrought so many changes already. She was no longer just a girl who'd been turned into a crazy person by the Alliance, not even just Simon's sister, but a wife, and a mother, as well as having a family who ... ah.

A familiar voice called through the doorway. "If'n you're doing something I shouldn't be seeing, you say now, else I'm coming in."

"Caleb is asleep."

Mal ducked into the shuttle. "Good. Lately been too many women getting bare-breasted around this boat to my way of thinking."

"Breast-feeding is the best method of childcare," she pointed out, not looking up at him and instead tucking the sheet closer around Caleb's body. "All the books agree."

"And you? Do you agree?"

She ran a finger lightly down her son's face. "I do," she murmured softly.

"Yeah, Frey said the same. Made her feel real close to both Ethan and Jesse. Sometimes I can't help being a little jealous of that closeness, 'specially since I don't have the wherewithal to ... you know ... but then she –"

"Persuades you otherwise?"

He chuckled. "Could put it like that. Not that I ain't had my fair share of bonding time, considering I always seemed to end up doing the late night feeds." He lowered himself slowly to the end of the bed, careful not to wake the baby. "So ... you feeling okay?"

She sighed. "Jayne." She raised her head at last, her dark eyes gazing soulfully at him. "He told you to come and speak to me."

"He mighta mentioned it, yes."

"I don't have anything I want to talk about."

"He said you maybe might have an inkling as to who's after us." He reached out, put a hand on hers. "Do you?"

She pulled away. "No."

"River, I ... _we_ need to know. Hank and Pete might've been killed. Someone's trying to tell me something, only I'd rather I knew who it was 'fore they get to shouting."

"I can't."

"_Xiao nu_, if you think you know, you gotta tell me. You've seen something, haven't you?"

She shook her head. "You won't believe me."

"You want I should get Frey? Is this something you can tell her and not me?"

"Blurred. Fuzzy."

"Cotton candy?"

"Yes."

"River, whatever you can tell me might help. Stop it happening again. Maybe worse. Might be we can stop any blood being spilled at all."

"I ..." She bit her lip.

"Please?"

"You won't believe me."

"Why don't you tell me and we'll find out. What have you seen? A name? A planet?"

She let the love and trust she saw in his eyes wear her resolve down. "A face. In my dreams." She pulled her feet up in front of her, hugging her knees to her body. "Except it can't be."

"Who do you see, River?" Mal asked gently, noting the tension inside that slim frame.

"An old friend."

"A friend? I presume you're being poetical."

She nodded. "But you won't believe me," she repeated.

"Try me."

For answer she reached up and touched his left ear, skimming the pale, almost invisible scar around it with just the tip of one finger. "Do you know the writings of Shan Yu?" she asked, but this time it wasn't her voice.

He jerked back, away from her. "He's dead." Hearing those words, the phrasing, exactly that intonation ... his heart beat faster, and phantom pain flared at the side of his head.

"Yes. But he's the one I see."

"Then you're seeing wrong. Niska was … Reaverised. You don't come back from that."

"Maybe you do."

"No. You know how Frey left him. You saw. Cutting on himself and the like. You really think he even survived that?"

"_You_ didn't see. Maybe he –"

He got to his feet. "River, I know you're feeling as frustrated as the rest of us, probably more so. Frey ain't said but I know she's bad too – she thinks it's her fault Hank and Pete got took because she didn't see anything, only it ain't. That measles knocked you all down, and it's taking time to get back to full strength. But this … thinking it's Niska – it's nonsense."

"I told you," she said sadly. "Didn't believe me."

He felt the tug of his affection for this young woman, and went down onto his heels in front of her. This time, when he spoke, his voice was softer. "Niska's dead, River. I wish I'd killed the bastard my own self, but he's gone. Maybe you're putting his face to this other person, but it can't be him."

She tried one last time. "Hank came back. The antidote saved him. Brought him back."

Licking suddenly dry lips he took a deep breath. "Yeah, but that wasn't ... he wasn't a Reaver, albatross. The Pax turned Hank into one of them that would've laid down and died, not gone out on the hunt, and that's the only reason he survived. No-one comes back from being a Reaver."

Looking down at Caleb, she knew he wasn't going to listen to her any more. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He stood up. "No need for that. But I'd be obliged if you didn't mention this to anyone else. You know how people get sometimes, and we got more than enough to concern us with the living without thinking on the dead."

"I won't."

He patted her shoulder. "Good girl." He stepped to the door, but turned before leaving. "You see anything else, though, you come tell me. No matter what it is, _dong mah_?"

"_Dang rahn_."

"That's my River." Mal smiled for her and left the shuttle.

For a long moment she listened to his footsteps echoing in the cargo bay, then sighed heavily. "I know what I saw," she said to her son, lifting him up into her arms and cradling him against her. "And so will they."

Mal headed down the stairs, his brow creased, his mind churning. It couldn't be Niska. That old man was dead and rotting some place, with any luck deep in the fires of hell, not orchestrating this sick mind game. Frey herself had told him that the antidote only worked on those who didn't turn Reaver, and she'd been very clear that Niska had succumbed. Hell, they'd heard his scream themselves.

Still, it was the kind of thing he might have expected from the _jian qing_. Most of Serenity's enemies didn't have the intelligence to pull something like this off. Come in mob-handed, yes, all guns blazing, certainly, but nothing as subtle as this. Not warning them first. Mal would be the first to admit that if he didn't know Niska was mouldering back on Wayborn, he'd probably be the first to come to mind to pull these tricks. Except ...

He felt like the devil was tapping him on the shoulder, just waiting for him to turn around.

Maybe Simon could help. He'd studied the antidote, spending long hours poring over the results he'd managed to glean from the tiny amount he'd allowed himself, locking the rest away securely. Mal still remembered the conversation they'd had when he handed it over ...

Simon had been blunt. "Without the formula, it would be guesswork at best. And we only have one dose. What if we need it?"

"What if they decide to use this Reduced Pax as a weapon?" Mal had countered. "We already figured they're trying to control the Reavers somehow – you really think they ain't working on that as well?"

Simon had blanched. "That would be insane."

"Don't think your sis has the monopoly on insanity, doc. Some folks have an odd idea of right and wrong, believing they know best and are willing to go to any lengths to prove it. And I have to tell you, they scare me more'n the Reavers themselves."

"I can try and synthesise it. I can't tell how successful I'd be." If anything, he'd gone even paler at his next thought. "But Mal, if we're right, and Reavers are all potential psychics, what would it do to people like River and Frey?"

"I don't know, Simon. If it ever gets to the stage of us finding out, Frey's made me promise to shoot her."

"Mal …" The young man had been visibly shaken. "You can't."

No, he knew he couldn't. Never in a million years. Which was why he'd asked the doctor to try and figure out why it only worked on one type of Pax victim, and not the other. Unfortunately Simon hadn't had much luck, and the young man was loathe to use more of the limited supply they had of the antidote. He was already concerned he'd used more than he should have, leaving not enough should the unthinkable happen.

As he stepped down to the bay floor, Mal touched the paper Simon had given him, still in his pocket. Maybe he should look into acquiring one of those machines soon as he could. He wasn't sure it would work on replicating the antidote, but there was an easy way to find out.

He strode towards the infirmary, his pace quickening as he heard squeals coming from inside, and for a moment his mind entertained him with images of someone hurt. Maybe the doc had finally wound Jayne up too much and was hoist on his own scalpel.

Instead he was treated to the sight of Simon holding tightly to Kaylee, his lips fastened to hers as he whirled her around.

"Gorramit, doc, I thought I told you to keep your sexing to your bunk?" Mal groused, crossing his arms in the doorway. "Anyone coulda been walking by."

"I'm sorry, Mal," Simon said, not looking like he was at all. He still had his arms around Kaylee, and a wide grin split his normally calm face. "I'll try to keep it under control." He attempted, unsuccessfully, to wipe the smile from his lips.

Kaylee, on the other hand, just looked like she was about to explode. "Sorry," she blurted, then giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Don't you have work to do, like keeping my boat in the sky?" Mal shook his head as he stepped into the infirmary. "Anyone'd think you'd just found out you were pregnant or something." A sudden silence filled the infirmary as Kaylee and Simon glanced at each other, and something stirred in Mal's belly. "You ... ain't, are you?"

Kaylee bit her lip, trying to keep her laughter inside. "Well, I was sick and –"

Simon interrupted. "I insisted she come here and –"

"He took some blood, which stung, but he stuck it in his doohickey –"

"The analyser, and –"

"It took a few minutes, and I was getting all jumpy and stuff –"

"I don't know how you've got any nails left," Simon said tenderly, looking into his wife's eyes.

"Don't think I have," she agreed.

"And you were holding onto my hand so tightly."

"You were trembling."

"Then it beeped ..."

Mal exhaled. "Damn."

Kaylee broke her gaze and looked at him. "You ain't ... you ain't mad or nothing, are you?" she asked, her sunshine dimming a little.

He felt like the 'verse's biggest heel, even inadvertently taking the gloss off this moment for her. "Now why would I mind, little Kaylee, when I know it's what you've been dreaming of for so long?" A slow smile spread across his features, lighting his eyes into the warm blue of a summer sky. "Long as I get to be Uncle, it's fine by me."

She squealed and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. "I love my Captain!"

He let himself embrace her. "That's all well and good, but your husband here might object if you go doing this too often."

She giggled again and let go. "Simon don't mind." She glanced back at him. "Do you, honey?"

"I'm going to be a father again," the young man said, stepping forward, shaking hands with Mal. "I don't think even Jayne could rile me today."

"That's good," said a deep voice from the common area. "Might take you up on that, doc."

They turned to see the rest of the crew watching, each one of them grinning widely.

"How did you –" Kaylee began, then saw Bethie standing at the front. "You heard?" she asked.

Bethie nodded, all her little teeth on display in a huge smile. "Another baby. I had to tell."

"That she did," Freya agreed. "I think I'll be deaf in that ear for a while longer."

"'Nother sister?" Hope asked, pushing through the legs to grasp as her mother's coveralls.

Kaylee bent down and lifted her onto her hip. "Might be a baby brother. And I don't wanna be told yet," she added, searching out and fixing onto River's face.

"Wasn't going to say a word," the young psychic said, looking as innocent as the day.

"You think it was that tea?" Hank asked, his arm around Zoe's waist. "Ellie Frye's cure?"

Simon shrugged. "I don't know. I don't see how, but ... it's a miracle."

"I think they happen more than you think, doctor," Serenity's first mate said.

"Maybe they do."

Hank sighed and squeezed his wife. "Now, if only you'd let me get you pregnant again ..."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "One miracle at a time."

Kaylee laughed. "You know, I'm glad you all know. I did think maybe we should keep it a secret for a while, you know, just me and Simon ... but I'm glad you all know."

"And we're so happy for you," River said, gliding into the room and hugging her sister-in-law.

"Besides, _mei-mei_," Freya put in, grinning, "the noise you were making I think Inara probably heard on Lazarus."

Kaylee's eyes widened. "I gotta tell her!" She looked at Mal. "Can I –"

"Go. Before you bust a stay or something."

She handed Hope to Simon and ran out of the infirmary.

"Can we bottle that enthusiasm?" Hank asked, watching her disappear around the corner of the stairs. "We could make a fortune and retire."

"You'd never find anything strong enough to keep it in," Simon said, his own joy bubbling in his chest.

Mal caught Freya's eye. _Am I bad in wishing it was us?_ he thought gently. _Another little Reynolds?_

She smiled for him. _It will be one day._

_Can I hold you to that?_

_Well, I –_

Their mental conversation was interrupted by Mal feeling someone tugging at his pants, and he looked down into familiar blue eyes.

"Use words!" Ethan admonished.

* * *

"Sir, they've left Phoros."

"All of them?"

"Yes sir."

"And the tracking device? It is working?"

"Yes sir."

"Then follow. When they land I will give further instructions."

"Sir."

There was a click and they were alone again.

"What's he got against them?" the other man asked. "Seems like a lot of fuss for nothing. Easy enough to kill 'em if we want to."

"I don't know." He shuddered slightly. "And I don't think I want to. We're doing a job and we're gonna get paid, that's all I care about. The whys and wherefores don't matter."

"You afraid of him?"

"Damn right. And if you had any sense you should be too." He made sure the tracker was still functioning, then lifted the small ship away from its hiding place in the Phoros hills. No matter what his companion said, he knew of their employer's reputation, and he for one didn't want to end up on the wrong end of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Mal waited until all the congratulations had stopped ringing through the ship, and everyone went off to do whatever jobs they needed to, then faced Simon. "Not that I ain't happy you're expecting again, but I actually came down here for a reason."

"Oh?" The young man seemed almost drunk with delight, but the look on Mal's face made him try to pull himself together. "What can I do for you, captain?"

Mal dragged a white handkerchief from his pocket. "Well, for a start you can wipe that lipstick off your cheek."

"What?" Simon turned so he could see his reflection in the glass. "Oh." He took the linen from Mal's outstretched hand and rubbed at the offending marks. "Kaylee," he explained. "She got a little bit ... over-emotional."

"I don't think she's the only one. There's more'n one colour there." Mal hitched his thumbs into his pockets and shook his head in mock-disbelief. "I think one of 'em's even my first mate's."

"I'd be more worried if it was Hank's." Simon grinned and turned back. "Thanks." He held out the handkerchief.

"No, you keep it. You've got laundry duty this week, ain't you?"

"For my sins."

"Give it back to me after."

"Okay." Simon thrust it into his own pocket. "So what did you want to see me about?"

"The Reaver antidote."

Simon's professional persona fell into place. "I haven't got any further. As you know, I don't want to use any more of what we have, just in case –"

"I understand that. But I was thinking about that machine we're planning on obtaining. The one that makes vaccines. Could you use it to make more?"

"Hmmn." Simon leaned against the counter, letting his analytical mind ponder the problem. "Well, the antidote does seem to act like an antiviral. Not in the conventional way, but ..." He pursed his lips and stood straight, turning to one of the drawers and taking out a memory tab. Sliding it home, he continued, "I have to admit I hadn't thought about it." The screen lit up with a maze of coloured lines, some intersecting, others spiralling in on themselves. "This is the antidote, and you can see here that it mimics –"

"Doc," Mal interrupted.

"Captain dummy talk?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"No problem." Simon exhaled slowly. "G-32 Paxilon Hydrochlorate was, as far as I can tell, based on a drug that was used to counteract the effects of a particular type of radiation poisoning. It boosted the body's immune system, allowed it to heal itself to a certain degree. In fact, it acted almost like a virus but with some unexpected side effects, including repression of aggression."

"I think there's worse ones than that."

"As I said, that was the original drug. What Blue Sun did with it, what Andrew Brooks was involved in ..." He stopped, seeing the man who was his mentor sitting next to him in the early morning light as the sun rose above the Corvus' horizon, telling him that there were those in the Alliance who knew what would happen if the Pax were unleashed on people.

"He was a good man," Mal said quietly, knowing exactly what was going through his friend's mind.

Simon nodded. "He was. He tried to warn us, and they killed him for it."

"Well, like I always say, the wheel never stops turning. So you'd better go on and finish lecturing me."

"Lecturing?"

"Simon."

"Okay." He touched the screen. "The antidote was developed from the G-32 derivative, the one Freya said Niska called the Reduced Pax, but it still has certain characteristics that indicate its origins, and maybe that's something we could ..." His voice died away as he stared at the information, almost as if it was speaking to him.

"Doctor. Simon."

"Mmn? Oh, sorry. Just thinking." He changed images, showing a view of what appeared to be blood cells. "This is the blood I took from Hank after he was exposed to the RePax, if I can call it that. You can see these cells are damaged –" He tapped the screen, indicating the minute black specks some of them had. "– but the antidote has stopped it in its tracks." His face tightened and he stood straight. "Only ..." Quickly flicking through other tabs in the drawer, he pulled out a second and slotted it into place next to the first. The image on the screen whirled, making Mal feel somewhat nauseous, but settled after a minute as Simon found what he wanted. "_Run-tse de fuo-tzoo_."

Mal looked at the mess of coloured lines on the screen, looking remarkably like the initial picture Simon had shown him. "That good or bad?"

"I took some of Hank's blood to figure out what it was they used to knock out him and Peter, remember?"

"Juto-something or other."

"Jutoprocaine, yes. But to make that determination I did a molecular breakdown through the analyser, and this is the result."

"And? Doc, you're beginning to get to the end of my somewhat short temper."

"I think Hank's immune to the RePax."

"What?" Now Simon had his full attention.

The young man turned to face him. "I hadn't thought to look before, but his blood is still showing the antidote."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Simon ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, Mal. It didn't even occur to me that it might still be active in his bloodstream."

"So Hank ain't gonna turn Reaver?"

"He wouldn't have anyway, but he won't lay down and die either."

Mal felt a smile lift his lips. "Figure Zoe might be a bit pleased over that."

"And you're right. The structure of the antidote makes it ideal for replication. As soon as we get one of the machines, I can start making batches."

"And Freya? Bethie? Your sis?" Mal stepped forward. "If this'll stop anything happening to –"

"It won't." Simon could see the effect his words were having. "I'm sorry, but it will only be effective on those of us with no psychic tendencies."

"So they're still in danger."

"I'm afraid so."

"Is there any way to figure out who this is gonna work on? I mean, Frey thinks Kaylee's a potential, and probably you. And Ethan ..." He couldn't go on, his mind assaulted by the nightmare of his children being turned.

"Soon as I have enough of the antidote to use, I can begin experimenting. But without some of the RePax itself, it might be difficult."

"Ain't having that stuff on board my boat, Simon." Mal pulled himself together. "'Sides, might be you can figure out a way of making that antidote work for all of us."

"I'm not actually a miracle worker," the young doctor pointed out.

"Sure you are. Just ask your wife. And your brand new baby-to-be."

The glow started to come back over Simon's face. "You know, this really shouldn't be possible."

"Exactly. Now why don't you go and pry Kaylee off the Cortex 'fore she waves the whole 'verse? I wouldn't mind betting she's on to her folks right now."

"You know, I think I will." Simon grinned.

"And take some hankies with you."

Simon paused in the doorway. "Why?"

"Hormones."

He laughed and hurried up the stairs.

Mal smiled. No matter how much he wanted more kids himself, to see Freya with child again, he couldn't feel jealous, not with Kaylee's infectious enthusiasm warming him. "Girl's gonna have my Firefly full to the brim with diapers 'fore she and Simon're finished," he murmured to himself, then chuckled. _Along with Frey's, and River's, and Zoe's, truth to tell_, he thought with amusement.

He turned back to the screen, staring at the complexity he could never hope to understand. Ever since Simon first stepped foot on board, he'd proved his worth, over and again. First as crew, then as family, and not just in patching up bullet wounds or similar. He'd made Kaylee happy – finally – and even found his sister a husband, although that wasn't without incident and entirely inadvertently. And now here was Mal, relying on him once again.

"Just be as smart as we all think you are," Serenity's captain muttered, then strode out of the infirmary.

* * *

Ephesus was a small planet that resembled a sapphire hung, as River rather poetically put it, "Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear."

"You're plagiarising," Freya said quietly.

"But only from the best."

"Romeo and Juliet."

"A tragedy."

Freya looked into her face, caught by the sadness in the young woman's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Shiny."

"Only you seem somewhat out of sorts."

"Bad dreams," River admitted.

"Mal told me what you said. About Niska."

"He didn't believe me."

"_Xiao nu_, I think we need to talk later."

The young woman looked up, surprised. "You too?"

"Later."

River nodded, feeling some of the stress that was gnawing away at her insides lessen a little. "Later," she agreed.

"How come most of these places look fine from up here, but are so much crud down there?" Hank asked idly, adjusting their vector.

"Distance makes everything look prettier," Zoe agreed.

"Not just distance. Alcohol does pretty much the same. And when's Kaylee gonna be fixing her still? It's been weeks."

"She's been busy," Mal said shortly, his arms crossed as he watched his pilot prepare for descending into atmo.

"I know that." Hank sighed. "Only now she's pregnant, and pregnant women don't drink."

"You'll just have to buy your own."

"Guess I will." He grinned. "Can I have a rise?"

"Nope."

"Somehow I knew you were gonna say that."

"And yet you still asked."

"Have to live up to my rep, Mal."

"Just get us down."

"No problem." Ephesus was much bigger now in the bridge windows, and he began to lift Serenity's nose, turning her underbelly to the atmosphere. "Still don't see why places like this just look so different from up here."

"The terraforming company miscalculated the depth of the ice at the poles," River said. "Their equipment melted the majority of it and flooded the low-lying land, leaving only a few archipelagos. Unfortunately the high levels of sodium nitrate and other salts were dissolved easily out of the friable rock structure, making the water brackish and unsuitable for drinking. Desalination plants have been built, but the remaining land isn't very fertile." She shrugged. "They make more out of selling salt than they do out of farming."

There was silence for a moment, then Freya put her arm around her and squeezed.

"Well, after that geology lesson, I think we're ready to land," Mal said dryly.

"Sorry," River said.

He flashed her a warm smile. "Don't be. Some of us could do with a little education now and again."

"You having a go at me, Mal?" Hank asked, the sky turning red.

"Yes."

"Shiny. Just so's I know." He lifted down the comlink. "Kaylee, I need a bit more power to the injectors."

"_On it. Only be gentle. She's feeling a bit fragile today."_

"Will do."

"We likely to fall apart?" Mal asked, with only a breath of concern in his voice.

"_Cap, how can you say that?" _Kaylee laughed. _"You think I'm gonna let anything happen to my baby?"_

"Um, right." Mal watched Hank hang the com back up and he glanced at Zoe. "Do you think she meant ..." He indicated his belly.

"Honestly, sir, I'm not sure it matters."

"No. You're probably right." He coughed slightly and moved forward. "We need to land on Rico. It's the biggest island in the southern hemisphere."

"Looks like we'll be down in time for dawn," the pilot said. "Be good to see a sunrise."

* * *

As the ramp dropped, cool air filtered into the cargo bay, and Freya buttoned up her coat. Hank had been right – the sun was only now lifting high enough to colour the sky pink. There was no port as such, just a dozen or so low warehouses where the salt was stored before collection. Some distance away, maybe a kilometre or so, were homes, some with lit windows as people began to prepare for the day.

"Hank says we're the only ship in the immediate vicinity," Mal said, heading slowly down the stairs towards her, buckling his gunbelt.

"He'll be here."

"When?"

She turned and looked up at him. "An hour. Maybe two."

"You're sure about that?"

"Dillon was."

"He'd better have something. I ain't too happy coming all this way for nothing."

"He has."

Mal reached the bay floor. "Frey, what River was talking about yesterday –"

Jayne stomped out of the shuttle. "We goin' or not?"

_Later, Mal._

He sighed. Later. "That we are." He tied his holster down to his leg.

"Cap, before you go ... can I have a word?"

He looked up, seeing his mechanic in the doorway to the common area. "We were just on our way out the door, Kaylee. Can't it wait?"

"I ... don't think so."

Mal glanced at Freya, who shrugged slightly. "Okay, _mei-mei_. What's so all-fire important?"

"Well, I've been working on the beacons for Simon and River, and they got me thinking," Kaylee began, somewhat diffidently. "I think we might've been tagged."

Mal's eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Something on board with a transmitter. Maybe not even on board, but on the outside." She stepped forward. "Wouldn't need to be big. And you might not be able to tell by looking. Just something looked like it belonged." Mal hadn't shouted her down, and that encouraged her. "That's what I mean about the beacons ... they ain't active 'til we send a signal from here. Why not for a tag?"

"Then how'd you figure to find it?"

"I can rig a hand sensor, and put a charge through the hull. Might take some time, but I should be able to find anything that shouldn't be there."

"And if it's inside?"

"Maybe we can adjust the internals. Hank should be able to help with that."

"It'd explain how come they knew where we were," Jayne said, settling Binky in her sheath more comfortably at the back of his waist.

Mal nodded. "It would." He looked back at Kaylee. "Okay. But if you're going outside you take Zoe and River with you, and they're to be fully armed."

"Hey, wasn't going to do anything else." She grinned at him.

"Then I think we'd better be going 'fore Freya bites through her leash."

"Excuse me!" the woman in question said. "I'm not a dog."

"I didn't say that." Mal walked out down the ramp.

"You did." She followed him.

"Don't recall mentioning a dog."

"You said _leash_."

"Don't recall saying any such thing."

They disappeared into the gloom, still bickering.

Jayne looked at Kaylee and sighed, shaking his head at the same time. "Lock up after us," he advised.

"I was intending to."

He strode out of Serenity, muttering to himself something about people not taking things seriously.

Kaylee waited until he vanished too, then pushed the button to close the ramp. Jayne was wrong, as far as she considered. Mal was taking things very seriously. Very seriously indeed.

* * *

"It's a church."

"That's right."

"I thought you were kidding." Mal looked at the large building as the sun rose above the sea.

"Nope."

"You met Dillon for the first time in here."

"I did."

"Good a place as any," Jayne said, joining them.

Freya hid the smile. "That it is."

Mal glared, but said, "Take a look around. I don't expect trouble, but that's when it tends to find us."

"You want me to find a good spot, case you need back-up?"

"Just keep an eye out."

"No problems." He strolled off, looking as if nothing was on his mind at all.

Freya walked up to the double doors, turning the large handle. "I was telling the truth, you know. I really was trying to decide whether to join the Independents or not, and there was some kind of festival going on in the town. This was the only place that was quiet enough to think."

Mal pushed on the old wood with her, the door opening inwards without a sound. "So you weren't seeking spiritual guidance."

She grinned at him. "Maybe a little."

"Did you find it?"

"Not really." They walked into the darkness, taking a moment for their eyes to adjust. "You know, this was open last time, too. They're very trusting."

"Probably got nothing to steal." He shook his head. "Anyway, you ain't getting out of talking to me, not now you've started. What were you looking for, all those years ago?"

"A sign, maybe. All I wanted to do was kill anyone who followed the Alliance, even though my mentor he ... he'd tried to tell me there was good in most people, that I didn't have to hate everyone, but I –" She stopped, biting her lip.

Mal couldn't see the look on her face, but he didn't have to. "You're better than that, Frey. And you survived intact."

"Sometimes I wonder." There was a wealth of sadness in her tone, quiet as it was.

He walked down to the front of the church, giving her a moment to compose herself, coming to a halt in front of the simple altar, not much more than a long, narrow table, covered in the centre with an embroidered cloth. "You know, this reminds me of our church back on Shadow," he said conversationally. "Next door to the school house. Every Sunday, folks'd pack inside, giving thanks for another week where we had enough to eat, clothes to wear."

"And you were right along with them." She came up behind him and took his hand.

"I was. My Ma brought me up right."

"Would you like that for Ethan and Jesse?" She looked into his face, the gloom not letting her see the blueness of his eyes, but knowing they were there. "If you did, I wouldn't object."

"Even though it ain't something you follow yourself?"

She pulled him to the first of the long benches, made him sit. "When I was a little girl, when I was still Elena Rostov, my parents took Alex and me to a cathedral in Osiris City. It was ... breathtaking." She could still see it, in her mind's eye, huge to someone so little, with windows that stained the very air in a thousand different colours. And all the people, whispering instead of talking, in an intense feeling of calm. "They told us this was where they got married, because it was my father's religion. My mother had converted to be with him."

"I didn't know."

She smiled a little. "One of those secrets. I guess." She took a deep breath. "Mother said we would be inducted into it at our next birthday, that it was our heritage."

"How old were you?" he asked gently.

"Nine."

"Frey ..."

"I never was. That was the year I went to the Academy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. And it was a long time ago." Freya lifted her feet onto the bench next to her.

"Should you be doing that?"

"It's not hurting anyone."

"Knowing our luck, that there's a capital offence."

"Fine." She uncurled again, her boots hitting the flagstones with a gentle thud.

"Thanks."

She looked at him from under her eyebrows. "Somehow I get the feeling you're the one who was being offended."

He didn't answer for a moment, then said, "Maybe. A little."

"Then I'm the one who's sorry."

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "Frey, what I tried to say before –"

"River's not happy."

Mal chuckled, but there wasn't much mirth in it. "That's putting it mildly."

"She thinks you don't believe her," Freya said softly.

"It's not that I don't ... it's just ..."

"Niska."

"Frey, you told me yourself how you left him. No-one comes back from that."

"I know. But I dreamed about him last night too, and it ... it scared me."

He sat forward, his elbows on his knees. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mal, you weren't listening to River. Why would you listen to me?"

"Because you're my wife?"

She smiled. "Since when did that guarantee anything?"

"That's not fair." He stood up so he could pace up and down the main aisle. "It's just ... Frey, it can't be him."

"Saying it often enough still doesn't make it true."

He turned to face her. "Okay. Supposing you're both right. That Niska's orchestrating all this. How?"

"Mal, the Alliance found one kind of antidote to this Reduced Pax. Who says they haven't got the other?"

"And they used it on Niska?"

"He was working for them. Maybe they thought he was valuable enough."

Mal stared into the dark corners. "It's all about control, isn't it."

"I think so."

"Controlling Reavers, creating them ..." He exhaled heavily. "Why can't they just let people be?"

Whatever response Freya was about to make was forgotten as they both heard a slight sound from the back of the church. They drew their guns simultaneously, Mal belatedly realising that if it was the local priest they'd have some quick explaining to do, as well as a somewhat substantial contribution to the poor box.

"Now, why did I know we wouldn't be able to walk up on the pair of you." Dillon stood with his hands up in the universal gesture for 'don't shoot'.

"We could have shot you," Freya said, smiling at her old friend and reholstering her weapon.

He laughed. "Oh, I don't think I've pissed you off enough lately."

"Don't speak too soon," Mal put in. "Jayne's around somewhere. I'm sure he'd shoot you if Freya asked."

"I should have known."

"And ... 'we'?" Freya asked.

Dillon's smile grew. "At last. I think this must be the first time I've surprised you in years." He moved to one side so they could see the open double doors of the church. "Come on in," he called.

A figure moved into the light, silhouetted against the morning.

Freya's jaw dropped. "Alex?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay, Hank. Charge it." Kaylee looked up towards the bridge, even though she knew he couldn't see.

"_How high?"_

"Keep it to the lowest setting. We don't wanna fry any of Serenity's electrics."

Hank nodded and glanced at the mess of wiring at his feet, his mind running over the connections, making sure he wasn't about to set himself on fire. No, it seemed fine. As he reached for the switch to push electricity through the hull, though, he had a sudden flash of déjà vu, of uncoupling the safeties on the discharge spikes and waiting for the lightening. Killing all those men. He could still see their faces, the surprise on them as he and Zoe hid the bodies. No, not surprise. Accusation.

"_Hank?"_ Kaylee's voice brought him back to the present from the painful and guilt-ridden past.

He swallowed hard. "Sorry, Kaylee. Just ... checking something over. Charging ... now." He dropped his hand onto the switch, half expecting the hull to glow, and almost disappointed when it didn't.

Outside, Kaylee hummed happily.

"I take it it's working," Zoe said, glancing at the young woman and smiling indulgently.

"It is." She grinned in return. "Now I just need to ..." Her voice trailed as she started to slowly walk Serenity's perimeter, her eyes glued to the tiny sensor screen.

Zoe kept pace, scanning the surroundings at every step.

Above them River stood on top of the Firefly's neck, her feet in a pair of insulated boots, Vera cradled tenderly in her arms. She too was keeping close watch, and her head whipped round as she thought she saw movement in her peripheral vision, but it was only the flapping of an old Blue Sun poster in the sea breeze. She shuddered, remembering tins and knives, then went back to keeping studying the landscape.

Out in the low buildings, where an advertisement cracked occasionally like a whip, two men hunkered down.

"I thought for sure she'd seen me."

"Did you see that gun she was carrying? I'd swear it was a modified Callahan. If she _had_ seen you it would have taken out you, me, and the side of this warehouse too."

"And she's wearing handguns." He shook his head as he pulled the comlink from his pocket. "She looks like a kid playing dress-up."

"Gorram serious playing, if you ask me."

The comlink chirped. _"Yes?"_

"Three female crew members in sight, sir."

"_Describe them."_

He suppressed his usual feelings at the artificial voice. "The tall, dark-skinned woman, the girl with long dark hair, and the other one's wearing coveralls. She's got brown hair."

"_Show me."_

The two men looked at each other, then carefully pushed a tiny capture box across the dirt and around the corner, activating it so it sent its signal direct.

"_Ah. The first mate. She and I have met. And the girl ..."_ His metallic voice stopped, and they waited for what seemed an age before he spoke again, making them jump. _"Leave the capture so I can watch. You go to help at secondary target."_

"Yes sir. But I thought you wanted –"

"_I have other plans."_

A squealing from the ship made them risk another look.

"I think they've found our tag."

"_Is no matter. I have no further need of it."_ The link went dead and the two men exhaled.

"You know, Ferris, the more I hear that fake voice, the more it gives me the creeps."

Ferris nodded. "I know what you mean."

They hurried away back to their colleagues, keeping the buildings between them and the Firefly.

* * *

Zoe studied the small object in Kaylee's hand, tool marks on it where she'd pried it off the hull. "That's it?"

"That's it. Looks like it belongs, don't it?"

"If you say so." Zoe didn't sound convinced.

"No, look. It's designed to look like part of the external landing sheath –"

"Kaylee, I believe you. But we need to get back inside now."

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

"Do you think you can backtrack it?"

"What, you mean find out where the signal's coming from to activate it?"

"Pretty much."

"Not sure. I can try."

"You do that."

As she heard her friends head back towards the cargo doors, River still scanned the deserted buildings surrounding them. She couldn't read Zoe, but the older woman had enough red-tinged anxiety for her to know she felt like they were being watched. As she felt the slight tremble that indicated the ramp raising, her eyes kept being drawn to the Blue Sun poster, snapping in the breeze amidst the long morning shadows.

* * *

Having been just talking about her brother, for a long moment Freya thought she was hallucinating, then as he walked towards them, a wide grin on his face, she realised he was real.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked angrily.

"That's a nice way to welcome me," Alex said, one eyebrow raising. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"No! You should be back on Osiris." She was amazed she could be so livid with him. "Are you totally _fong luh_?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, I don't think you're thinking at all!" She strode away from him into the shadows.

Alex looked at Mal. "I thought she'd be pleased to see me."

"Guess you don't know her as well as you imagined, son."

"Aren't I older than you?" He sat down on one of the pews, Dillon lowering himself carefully into the one behind, intent right now on keeping out of the family argument.

"Only a little bit. But whatever you do, don't remind Frey of that." He glanced towards where his wife was standing, her back to them, fists on her hips. "Not if you're considering leaving this church with all your limbs in some kind of working order."

"And I'm your brother-in-law," Alex pointed out.

"Well, then, you should be more intelligent than this. Frey's right – it ain't safe for you to be around us right now."

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?" Freya said, turning around. "And how come you're with Dillon anyway?"

Alex smiled slightly. "You mentioned him once, in passing. When I got to Persephone he wasn't that difficult to find." The smile grew. "I didn't know you moved in such high circles."

"Not that high," Dillon muttered.

"High enough that everyone I spoke to wanted to be thought of as your friend."

"I need to get out more."

Alex turned back to Freya. "Since you would never tell me where you were, I had to make do with what I could get, and when I explained who I was he said he was coming to meet you. I offered use of my ship." He shrugged. "We parked on one of the other islands and shuttled in."

"Didn't hear you."

"I imagine this church has pretty thick walls."

Something was niggling at the back of Mal's mind, but he ignored it for the moment. "That don't explain why you needed to see Frey right at this particular time."

"Can't it be brotherly concern? And the Rostovs do have some holdings out here. They need to be inspected once in a while, so maybe I thought I'd take advantage, and kill two birds with one stone."

Freya dropped down next to Dillon, her annoyance still showing clearly. "One, I'm not a bird and you try and kill me I'll kill you back. Two, it just isn't safe out here. Not now." She shook her head. "And three, you're lying."

Mal stiffened.

"What makes you think that?" Alex asked curiously.

"Experience." She looked into his eyes. "I could always tell."

"Right. Remember when I told you there were aliens living in the tree house? You wouldn't go in there for months."

"Well, I've learned a few things since then. Why are you here, Alex?"

"Maybe I just wanted to see the 'verse. Ellen's visiting her family with the girls, Mother is safely ensconced back home on Osiris … it's just me, Freya."

"And someone's been chasing us." Mal crossed his arms. "That's why we're meeting Dillon in the first place. But the point my wife is making is that you really have to leave, and go now. Otherwise they might come after you too."

"But I have nothing to do with this."

"Alex, my mechanic thinks we've been tagged. If they know you're with us, it really won't matter if you're the king of Londinium, you'll still be fair game as far as they're concerned."

"But who would want to hurt you that badly?"

Freya half turned to look at Dillon. "Well?" she asked.

Dillon leaned forwards, his elbows on his knees. "If my informant is right, it's not exactly a name I want to bandy about the ether." He looked from Freya to Mal. "Someone was looking for men, and that same someone had ears out for any intel on a Firefly. For Serenity."

"Figured that much when they took Hank and Peter Frye," Mal commented dryly.

He didn't take offence. "I had to do a lot of digging, and I've called in quite a number of favours over this, but the rumour is that it's –"

"Adelai Niska."

Dillon sat back and stared at Serenity's captain. "Now how do you know that?" He shook his head. "And more to the point, if you knew already, why did you have me look into it for you?"

"I didn't." Mal started to pace again. He wanted to be out, doing, chasing, but being forced to this inactivity wasn't doing his temper much good. "And I still find it hard to believe."

"Mal, from what Freya told me before, Niska hates you. And he's a psychopath. He's been keeping something of a low profile for a while, but it would be too much to hope that he was dead. People like him are very hard to kill."

"Don't I know it." Mal walked to the low altar, studying the embroidered cloth in the centre, idly noting a mark, a denting of the fabric where something stood, probably a cross on a circular base. "Only I thought we had."

Freya quickly went over the events on Wayborn, leaving out only her guilt at not having finished Niska with a bullet.

"My God ..." Alex breathed.

Dillon's jaw had dropped, and he was staring at her. "Pax? They were experimenting with Pax and you didn't tell me?"

"What could you have done?" She went to take his hand but he jerked back.

"You know how I feel. I've been trying to get something concrete on what the Alliance have been doing, the way they've been playing with people's lives ... and you keep something like this from me?"

"We didn't have any proof it was the Alliance," Freya said. "It wasn't like Blue Sun marked any of the equipment with their logo, proclaiming 'Here. We're guilty. Take us in.'"

"You had this Reduced Pax."

"And I wasn't about to touch it." Freya took a deep breath. "What if River or I had been exposed? What then?"

"You don't know if it would make you into a ... a super-Reaver."

"You want to test it to find out?"

He grabbed her arm. "Damn it, Frey, you of all people –"

"Dillon." Mal didn't shout.

The older man lifted his head, and there was anger in his eyes. He stood up quickly. "That infection they spread, Breed nearly dying ... Hell, Mal, Freya too. Then that ship. When are you going to leave me with something I can use?" He grunted. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to cover up for those _hwoon dahn_."

Mal's fingers ghosted over the butt of his gun. "You say that again and I won't care if we are in a church."

"Stop it," Freya demanded, on her feet now. "Both of you. You're behaving worse than children."

"I ain't being called an Alliance stooge by anyone," Mal ground out.

"You know he didn't mean it." She pushed between them. "Now stop it. Or … or I'll make you stand in the corner."

They both stared at her, then the mental image overcame them, and they broke into laughter, the tension dissolving.

"I think you've been teaching the kids too long," Mal said, shaking his head.

"You? Teach?" Dillon stared at her.

"Yes." She leaned forward just an inch. "So?"

He held up his hands. "Nothing. Just can't imagine you being a school ma'am."

"Spectacles and a shawl," Mal put in.

"Pince nez," Dillon corrected.

"What?"

"Those kind that don't have arms. They just sit on the bridge of the nose."

"Oh, yeah. Ms Gringrich had some like that."

Freya glared at them. "Have you finished insulting me?"

"Were we?" Dillon asked.

"I think we might have been." Mal turned on the blue eyes. "Sorry, Frey."

"Yes, well, all right." She exhaled through her nose. "Can we get back to the matter in hand?"

They were serious again in a moment. "Adelai Niska," Dillon said. "But you still haven't explained why _you_ think it's him. If Freya's right, and you left him a Reaver –"

Alex broke in. "Um, that's actually why I'm here."

They all turned to look at him.

"You care to explain that more fully?" Mal asked, but was interrupted by the comlink in his pocket buzzing. He dragged it free. "What?"

It was Hank. _"Mal, River's in a state fit to be tied. She says Jayne's in trouble."_

That was it. Now Mal understood the nagging at his hindbrain. Dillon and Alex had landed in a shuttle, but Jayne hadn't warned them of their approach. "She say where?"

"_Nope. Just that something's wrong."_

"Keep her there. We'll find him." He paused. "Better tell Simon to be ready, though," he added. "Just in case."

* * *

Jayne had settled in the only cover for some distance. Dusty brush surrounded him in the deep shadow of an abandoned building, but he had a good view of the doors into the church, and the surrounding area. This kind of job was easy, and he could do it in his sleep.

What he didn't like was the fact that the sun coming up had also brought out biting insects, and more than a couple had decided to see what he tasted like. He watched one crawl up his hand, feeling its many feet moving through the hairs on his skin, before settling to feed. Glancing around, making sure no-one was likely to detect the movement, he brought his other hand down hard, then wiped the remains onto his pants leg where it joined the others who had foolishly decided he was a free meal.

Jayne sighed. He was hungry himself, and hoped they weren't going to be that long. Maybe he could persuade Kaylee to rustle something up when they got back from the supplies Ellie Frye had insisted they take, maybe with some of that special strawberry sauce. Damn, but that was good. He'd bet half a payday there was alcohol in it.

Actually, that was a thought. Maybe he could persuade Simon to test it, see what the magic ingredient was. After all, they were brothers-in-law now, and the doc shouldn't be averse to a little skulduggery once in a while. He grinned. Then p'raps they could sell it, make a little profit. Nothing wrong with extra coin now and again.

He scanned the area once more. No sign of Dillon arriving so far. Freya had said it was maybe going to be an hour or two, and her and Mal had only just gone inside, so he should just make himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could in a bush that looked as if it was used as a toilet by every mangy dog in town.

Ah, and here came one of them now. A skinny, long-legged thing that probably hadn't known its own father, or its grandfather for that matter. It sniffed the bush thoroughly, ignoring Jayne, then prepared to lift its leg.

"You do that and you ain't gonna have to worry about having pups," Jayne said quietly, poking it with his handgun.

The dog yelped and ran away, tail between his legs.

Jayne grinned, wiping the muzzle of Boo on his pants. He half expected to hear River in his mind, telling him off for threatening a harmless creature, but there was nothing. She must be busy helping Kaylee find that tag.

He shifted slightly, then froze. Something was moving. Carefully turning his head he scanned the empty space. Only it wasn't so empty. Two men, walking across the dirt towards the church, neither of whom he recognised. They didn't seem to be armed, but nowadays modern weaponry could be concealed in the palm of the hand, or easily up a sleeve. They weren't skulking, or even trying to hide, but something about them prickled his unease.

His fingers began to creep towards the comlink in his pocket to warn Mal, but he stopped. The breeze had dropped, and in the sudden stillness of the air even a whisper would be audible for some distance.

The two men had reached the church doors, but they didn't try and go inside. Instead they stood still, and from their stance he could tell they were listening.

Suppressing a growl, he pondered his next move. He didn't want to attract any attention, so he couldn't just shoot them, not if they were only being nosey. He remembered when he was young, and how the men who helped the local Shepherd were into everyone's business. Maybe it was the same here, and they were just curious as to the identity of the people in their church.

Except it wasn't a chance he was able to take. He stood upright, and began to cross the hundred yards or so towards them. He opened his mouth to call, to say he was lost, maybe, ask if they could help, but a sixth sense made him jerk his head back, and he felt the passage of something skim by his neck, hitting the wall behind him. Without thinking he drew his gun, but they were on him, three men, determined to take him down. One slammed a pistol hard onto his wrist, and Boo flew off into the dust.

"Gorram it!" he growled, realising it had been a trap all along, swinging his fist into the nearest face as the two men who had been listening at the church doors ran to help their colleagues. He heard teeth slam together, maybe even break, and he smiled grimly. Now, if only he could get to ... Something stung his neck, a bit like one of the insects he'd killed, but this made him start to go numb immediately. Fighting the sudden desire to lay down and sleep, he dragged Binky from her sheath and lunged, feeling the point break flesh.

"_Cao!_" someone swore, and he felt his feet knocked out from under him.

"He should be down!" another man said.

He tried to open his eyes, look at the men attacking him. With a supreme effort of will he dragged his body up until he was on his hands and knees, but barely felt the second sting, this time directly at the base of his brain. At the same moment someone stomped on his hand, the pain shooting up his arm but meeting the cold nothingness going the other way.

As he registered his body hitting the dirt, he was vaguely aware of more strikes to his fingers, but the black opened up and welcomed him home. He didn't even know he was being dragged off as a shuttle came in to land.


	9. Chapter 9

"River, River, please." Simon was desperately trying to calm his sister. She was on the verge of attempting to force him out of her path, almost at the point of violence in her desire to get to the cargo bay doors.

"Have to find him!" She gripped his forearms until she could hear the bones grating. "I have to find him!"

"The Cap's out there looking," Kaylee said, her own hands clasped tightly in front of her, fully aware of the damage the young woman could do if she decided to. "He'll find Jayne."

"River. You're hurting me." Simon tried not to let it show, but it was there, pain written clear on his pale features.

"What?" For a moment she didn't move, staring into his face, her eyes ragged and disturbed. Then she let go as if from a red hot poker. "I didn't mean to …" She hugged herself instead, darting for the door, but Zoe was in the way.

"Wait for the captain," the tall woman said.

"Need to … have to …"

"Wait, River."

Simon was at her side again. "_Mei-mei_, I don't want to sedate you -"

"No needles!"

"But I will if I have to."

She stared at him, pleading. "I just want him back."

"Then try and calm down."

Finally she nodded jerkily and took a great, shuddering breath, drawing on the hidden reserves of strength within her. Simon silently thanked Freya for helping his sister find even a modicum of control.

"Better," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "River … is Jayne hurt? Can you tell?"

She unfocused a moment. "Unconscious."

"River, honey, he'll be okay," Hank said, keeping his tone gentle. "Mal and Freya are going to find him."

"They won't."

"What?"

"They won't find him. Niska has him."

For a moment Simon wasn't sure he'd heard. "Niska?"

* * *

As they ran from the church, the four of them headed for the only cover around, a scrubby bush next to an abandoned building, deep in the morning shadows.

"He was here." Mal was down on his heels. "Boot marks."

"Freshly dead insects," Freya agreed. "But no sign of Jayne."

Dillon nodded at Alex, pointing back towards the town, and they split up.

* * *

"Adelai Niska?" Simon lifted his head to stare at Zoe. "Is that who you mean?"

River nodded. "He has Jayne."

"River, _mei-mei_, Niska's dead."

"Not dead. Waiting. Sharpening his steely knives, ready to slake his thirst."

"But he became a Reaver. You told us," Kaylee pointed out, suddenly feeling very cold. She would never forget the sight of Mal's ear lying in that linen handkerchief, nor the relief as they left Wayborn and she was told he would never be coming after them again. Only now River's words were like chips of ice in her blood.

"Snip. Snap."

"Okay, River, now you're scaring me."

* * *

"Here." Freya dropped to her heels, leaning forward to pick up something bright and shiny. "It's Jayne's. It's Binky."

Mal shook his head. "What kind of man names his knife?" he asked.

She knew he didn't really expect an answer, that it was only a symptom of the worry he was feeling. "There's blood on the blade."

"Jayne's?"

"Simon would be able to tell."

He continued to study the ground, then went down onto his knees himself with a surprised grunt, reaching under a stack of broken Blue Sun crates. He drew out Boo. Swiftly he checked the cylinder. "She's not been fired."

"We'd have heard if there's been gunplay."

"Mal, over here!" Alex's voice rang across the empty ground.

* * *

Hank hadn't spoken, just stared into the Firefly's floor, his mind full of the only time he'd faced Niska. He'd thought he was going to die, that no-one would be coming for him. He knew he was a coward for not being able to stand up to that twisted man, for giving in to the fear, but he could still smell the gas as it looped and swirled its way around his ankles, up past his knees. No matter how hard he'd pushed it away, it came back, tasting of roses and death, until all he could do was breathe in. It was almost a relief to feel the numbness come over him, the lethargy fill his bones with liquid until all he wanted to do was lie down and let it all wash away.

"Not a coward," River muttered, and he looked up into her dark eyes, swimming with emotion.

"I am," he whispered, not even vocalising the words. "They all survived."

"So did you."

He shook his head.

* * *

"Down there." Alex pointed to the dust, and Mal stared down.

"_Suo-yo duh doh shr-dang _…"

There, sticking into the dirt, was a tiny steel shell, tipped with artificial feathers. Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he reached down and carefully pulled it free. A fine needle, like those on a hypo, protruded from the other end.

"_Cao_," Mal said, aware of Dillon running up.

"What did you find?" he asked, breathing a little heavily.

Mal held it out on the flat of his hand.

"Jutoprocaine?" Freya murmured.

"Probably. Seems to be their drug of choice."

"At least they didn't kill him out of hand."

"But why Jayne?"

"A crime of opportunity. He was on his own."

"Frey, he's bigger'n me."

"So there were a number of them. Mal, I don't see this as being a one man operation. There might a dozen all told."

"There's more." Alex led them to a disturbed area. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it looks like someone was dragged here."

"Ain't gonna," Mal muttered, following the tracks for maybe fifty yards.

"They've stopped."

Dillon bent down to look closer. "No. Hover. See, there's the indentations of the control jets."

Mal's eyes narrowed and looked at Freya. "I don't think he's off planet yet."

"I agree."

"What?" Alex stared at them both. "Why?"

"Why use a hover if you've got a ship waiting? You'd use a shuttle instead," Freya explained.

"So he's still here?" He looked around the landscape. "Do we search?"

"Too many places to hide, and there ain't enough of us." Mal ran his hand down his holster. "And there's a few dozen islands as well, just in this group."

"A boat maybe?"

"Possible. But we're not doing any good here. Best we get back to Serenity. Got some planning to do."

"You think he's going to be handed back, like Hank," Dillon interjected.

"Maybe. Can't see any other reason for taking him."

"Unless Niska's upping the ante."

Mal went to open his mouth, to say again that it couldn't be that old psychopath, but he stopped. Instead he took a deep breath. "Let's hope not."

* * *

"They're back," River said, jumping to her feet and running to the bay doors. Without even a moment's thought she slammed her hand onto the control.

Zoe sighed, drawing her gun. "Not a good idea," she said. "What if they're being forced?"

"Not." She stared intently at the gap as it widened, then seemed to shrink into herself. "No Jayne."

Mal strode up the ramp. "Sorry. No." He paused by her. "Can you tell where he is?"

"No." She shook her head and went back to sit down on one of the crates. "Too fuzzy."

"I'm sorry, River," Dillon said, meaning every word. "I wish I'd -"

She interrupted. "Steak."

"What?"

Mal waved a hand. "It ain't important."

Alex coughed slightly.

Kaylee suddenly spoke. "You're Alex, ain't you? Freya's twin?" She smiled. "Didn't know you were gonna be here."

"No-one did," Mal said shortly. "And, 'cept for Dillon here, I figure introductions can wait 'til later."

"Fine," Simon said acidly. "But when were you going to tell us about Niska, Mal?"

"What?"

He nodded towards his sister. "River said. Niska has Jayne."

"We don't know that."

"I do," River put in sadly, rocking herself backwards and forwards. Freya went to stand next to her, pulling the young woman into her embrace.

"River told me what she believed yesterday."

"And you didn't think to share that with us?"

"You'd better be moderating that tone, Simon."

"What, you figured we didn't have a right to know?"

Mal's temper, always on a short rein, snapped. "And what would you have said, doctor? If I'd sat there at dinner last night and told you your sister believed it was Niska behind all this? What exactly would have been your reaction?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Simon didn't back down. "You didn't give us the chance to find out."

"Well I am now. You tell me."

"I … would have said she must have been mistaken."

"As did I." Mal jerked a finger at Dillon. "First proof I had it was Niska came just now."

Freya wisely didn't mention her own dreams, knowing it would inflame the situation.

"And now?"

Mal threw his hands into the air. "I don't know! This may come as something of a shock to you, but I don't have all the answers."

"You're captain. You're supposed to."

"Well, maybe sometimes I could do with someone else coming up with some ideas."

"Like you ever listen to us."

"Doctor -"

"Stop it!" River shouted, her voice cutting across them. "No. More. Arguing." She punctuated every word with a step, until she was standing between them. "No. More. _Dong mah_?" She glared at both the men. "You are worried. Concerned. Anxious. Troubled, afraid, fearful, apprehensive, scared. Terrified. But this will not find Jayne."

For a long moment there was silence, everyone staring at her, until Hank began to get uncomfortable.

"Um … can we not be going with the killing of each other right now?" he asked. "Later, okay, when there's nothing else to do and we're wishing we had some of Kaylee's home brew, then maybe we can reconsider. But right now, can we behave like adults? Just for a while?"

Mal threw him a glowering glance, but his heart wasn't really in it. He turned back to River. "I'm sorry, _xiao nu_. And you're right. Not the first time I've been told today, either." He could feel Freya's eyes on him. "Jayne first, recriminations later. And maybe bloodshed. Okay?"

Simon had the grace to blush a little. "Okay."

"Here." Mal held out his hankie, the tiny dart wrapped inside. "Can you tell if this went into Jayne?"

Simon studied it carefully, grateful for something to do. "I think there's blood on the tip. It won't take a moment -"

"Then check this too." Freya held out Binky.

"Give me a minute." He hurried towards the infirmary.

"And we found this." Mal held out Boo. "River, you wanna take charge of her?"

She nodded, taking the gun and holding it to her chest.

Zoe winced, hoping the safety was on or that it was unloaded, but didn't attempt to take it off her. Instead she said, "Sir, we found the tag."

Mal span to face her. "What?"

"The tag. How they tracked us."

Kaylee moved forward. "It was on the landing gear."

"I don't see how that -"

"Kaylee was about to see if she could backtrack it."

Mal turned to look at his mechanic. "Can you?"

"I think so. Stick a low voltage through it, rig a receiver instead of a transmitter and see -"

"How long?"

"If it works? Maybe … an hour?" Her mind was already a whirl of what she needed to do. "I might have to use the external sensors, make it as big as possible."

"Do it. Get Hank to help."

She paused a moment. "And what about Jayne? Ain't we gonna look for him?"

He put his hands on her shoulders. "_Xiao mei-mei_, this is our best shot at getting him back. Find the men who took him, we find the man, okay?"

She looked into his blue eyes. "_Shr ah_." She gave a slight lift to her lips, then scampered back to her engine room.

"Mal." Simon was back. "The blood on the dart is Jayne's."

"Can you tell what they used?"

"The same. Jutoprocaine."

"He likely to be having any side effects?"

"There's no way of knowing." Simon glanced at his sister. "He got at least a blow in, though. The blood on the blade of the knife isn't his." He paused.

"But? Doc, there's a _but_ hanging above your head blinking in all kinds of neon."

"_But_ there is also a trace of blood on the handle."

"Don't tell me. That's Jayne's too."

"I'm sorry, Mal."

"Don't be. Not your fault." Mal gazed at River, still rocking slightly even though she was cradling her husband's gun. If he could give her something to aim at, something to fight, she'd be better, but this not knowing was … He turned to Alex. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little time to wait. And I think we're gonna start using it by you telling us exactly what you're doing out here."


	10. Chapter 10

Everyone but Kaylee and Hank was congregated in the dining area. The children, threatened with withdrawal of treats for a month, had dug their feet in and were sitting in the easy chairs, dog and cat at their feet.

Alex couldn't help looking at two of them from where he stood just a few paces away, hands clasped behind him as if he was about to give a report. The little boy he recognised from his previous, very brief visit, and both of them from the captures he'd occasionally received. Ethan and Jesse. He smiled a little, and the boy smiled briefly back. Jesse waved her fingers at him, beaming shyly, and his heart skipped a beat. She looked so like Freya when she was young. Not that he remembered, since he'd been that young at the same time, being twins, but his mother regularly used to get out the albums, poring over them. Even his father, at least later on, had spent a long time staring at pictures of Elena … Freya. His lips twitched. He still found it hard to get it straight in his mind sometimes, and it was always shocking to realise she'd been Freya three times as long as she'd ever been Elena.

Mal coughed, and Alex turned back, seeing everyone waiting patiently.

"If you don't mind," Serenity's captain said, standing square behind the chair at the head of the table. "I'm kinda anxious to hear this story of yours." He crossed his arms. "And quite why you had to come all this way to tell it."

They faced each other above the heads of the other crew. "I thought it was important," Alex said, not wanting to let himself be intimidated, and failing miserably.

Mal's features softened just a degree. "Then go ahead."

Alex cleared his throat. "After I found that Ele … that Freya was still alive, after we'd got back to Osiris, I started digging." He looked at his sister. "The Rostovs have a lot of connections, and the money to make those connections profitable."

Freya shook her head. "You shouldn't have. The people at the back of this are too powerful, and you have a family."

"Yes, I do. And you're part of it." He watched her face pale a little as the realisation hit home, and felt such sadness that she honestly believed she'd been alone in the 'verse for all that time. "Anyway, people who should have been happy to see me started not taking my waves –"

"Alex." She said his name on a sigh.

He ignored his sister and went on, "But one of them came up with something." He pulled a small recording device from his pocket and pressed play.

A man's voice issued from the tiny speaker, unrecognisable to any of them except for the fact that he had a heavy Osiran accept. _"… but it shouldn't be taken for granted. The success of the AntiPax is limited to those newly exposed, as the incident with the Normandy has since proved. Our original experiments should therefore be considered of restricted interest only. However, the initial results of our other venture have always been far more promising. The subject is responding well to the latest round of conditioning, and …"_ The voice cut off.

"AntiPax?" Simon leaned forward.

"I think maybe someone's found what we were looking for," Mal responded, then looked back at Alex. "How old's this recording?"

"A couple of years. Maybe more. My friend found it buried in another message, just this fragment. He kept hold of it." Alex chuckled. "I think he was considering blackmailing someone, but he never found out where it originated."

"He'd probably have ended up dead if he'd tried." The dryness of his tone hid nothing of the seriousness of his words. He glanced at Zoe. "The Normandy. You figuring it's a ship?"

"I've never heard of her if she is, sir."

"The Alliance Scout Vessel Normandy." Alex surprised everyone. "What, did you think I was just going to leave it at that?"

Mal studied him for a moment. "Go on."

"The Normandy disappeared almost three years ago, probably shortly before this recording was made. She was supposed to be on routine patrol out near the borders, after some nefarious types who were preying on shipping. But according to official sources, there was a problem with their core, and she blew up with all hands."

"Official sources." Mal scoffed. "About as trustworthy as anything outta the Alliance." He sat down and motioned Alex to a chair, giving him grudging if temporary acceptance. "I'm guessing there's more."

"There is. I managed to find a crew roster, and … well, like I said, money talks. I spoke to three different family members, including the sister of the Commander of the Normandy, one Catherina Allard. They were all told that it was an accident, and the Alliance were most apologetic, offering all sorts of financial assistance. Which is odd, since normally they're somewhat loathe to do more than just pay out the minimum required."

"Don't tell me. That made someone get curious."

Alex nodded. "That same sister. She asked around, and someone told her the Normandy was on a secret mission. They couldn't be specific, but it was something to do with testing some chemical."

"AntiPax?" Mal looked at Freya. "You don't think …"

She nodded. "They probably thought it was worth it. See if it works on Reavers close up."

"_Ai ya_. No wonder they lost the ship." He sat back, a long slow breathe escaping his lips.

"Do you mean they sent people into Reaver space on purpose?" Simon couldn't get it into his mind. "To see what happened?"

"Alliance don't care about folks," Mal pointed out. "Not small numbers like that."

"Small? A Scout Vessel … there'd have been more than fifty people on board!"

"Drop in the ocean, doctor. Fifty purplebellies on a boat or thirty million on Miranda, it's all the same to them." He stopped, knowing he'd sounded harsh. He moderated his tone. "I wish it weren't so, but …"

"They were sitting ducks." Simon shook his head, still in shock. "God, how must they have felt, knowing …" His voice died away to nothing.

"Play it again," Zoe ordered, and Alex obliged. "Sounds like they've got their hands on someone else," she said as it finished once more. "Talking about 'conditioning' like that."

Mal nodded. "Someone like –"

"Me." River spoke for the first time. She was sitting in her chair, her feet on the seat in front of her, arms hugging her legs. She started to rock again. "All about control …"

"You know, I really don't like the sound of that," Dillon commented.

"It's something we've considered before," Freya explained. "That someone's trying to control the Reavers."

"Alliance?"

"Sure sounds like it." Mal's lips twisted a little. "Looks like maybe you've got a bit of that proof you wanted," he added.

Dillon shook his head. "Nothing that's going to stand up in court, though. Unless that contact of yours would agree to testify."

"You mean Commander Allard's sister?" Alex looked unhappy. "She's dead. She had an … accident, shortly after I talked to her."

Freya couldn't help it. "And yet you still pursued it?" She got to her feet. "I don't believe you, Alex. You've got a wife, two daughters … do you really want to leave them alone in the 'verse?"

"I thought it was important. After what they did to you –"

"Thinking? I don't imagine you were thinking at all! It just seemed like a game to you, something to play at. Well it isn't. People are _dying_ here, Alex."

He could feel her glare right the way through to the back of his skull, and it set his teeth on edge. He stood up. "You think I don't know that? You think I'm so cocooned in my life that I don't know what's happening in the real world?"

"I'd say that pretty much covers it."

"You don't know anything about me, _Elena_." He put emphasis on the last word, knowing it would anger her.

"Freya," she ground out. "My name is Freya. You call me by that name once more and I –"

"Are you two gonna fight? I mean, get down and dirty, maybe with kicking and gouging?" Mal asked sardonically, leaning back in his chair and resting one booted foot against the edge of the table. "'Cause if you are, you need to take this into the cargo bay. It's easier to clean the blood."

"Jayne would have put money on Freya," River whispered, but they all heard.

"He will again, _xiao nu._" Mal looked between his wife and brother-in-law and his face hardened. "As interesting as this promises to be, you're gonna have to put it on hold for a while. When we've got Jayne back, got ourselves out of this mess, then you can get back to it. Hell, I'll hold your coats." He moved his foot and his chair settled to the floor again with a bang. "But right now we gotta focus, _dong mah_?"

Freya and Alex stared at each other, then she blinked. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am." Alex reached out tentatively. "This is all new to me, and it … it scares me. I didn't mean to lash out at you." He took her hand. "And I worry about you."

She had to smile. "Worry about me? You're the one trying to find dirt on the Alliance."

"And you're out here in the middle of nowhere being pursued by a madman."

"Good point." She lifted her chin. "Agree we're both crazy?"

"We are twins."

"I suppose we are."

The tension in the room eased a notch.

"Shiny." Mal nodded. "Now, can we get back to the business in hand?"

"You could call Jeremiah Smith," Simon suggested. "He still owes you."

"And he's still Alliance. Necessity is one thing, but I ain't asking those kinda questions of a man I don't really know."

"He saved my life," Freya said quietly. "And … others." She glanced towards the rest area, where Bethie's gaze met hers.

"I ain't denying that. But it's been a while since he was obligated, and he might just have forgotten. 'Sides, there ain't no proof he ain't involved."

"You think he is?" she asked.

"Andrew Brooks was. I ain't taking anything for granted at the moment." He looked at the doctor. "Sorry, Simon."

The young man didn't take offence. "No, you're right. That's what Theo said, wasn't it? That you have to be very careful who you trust."

"Well, right now, most of the folks I trust are in this room."

"Except for Jayne," River added, picking at the hem of her dress.

"I'm including him, albatross."

"He will be pleased to hear that."

"You'll be able to tell him soon, River. I promise."

_Thank you,_ he heard in his head as she flashed a weak smile before going back to the threads hanging from the fabric. Then her head snapped up. "News," she said, her tone sharp. She lowered her feet to the floor, now resembling nothing less than a hound waiting to be let loose on the prey.

"We got it!" Kaylee ran into the dining area, Hank at her heels.

Mal raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

"I expected them to be shielded, but they weren't. We only needed to –"

"Them?" He interrupted before she could relapse into jargon. "There's more than one?"

"More than one receiver, yes." Kaylee put the tag down on the table, now with half its innards on display.

"Same place?"

"No." She shook her head. "And I can't be accurate enough to say exactly where, just the general areas."

"Good enough." Mal stood up. "We split into two teams, each take one. Whichever one finds Jayne, shout."

Zoe was already on her feet, checking the ammunition in her Mare's Leg. "We'll find him, River."

The young psychic wasn't looking at her. She wasn't looking at anyone, just staring into the distance, trying to see past metal and wiring to where her husband was being held, almost trembling with the control she was exhibiting over her muscles.

Mal put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "River, Alex, you're with me. Zoe, take Dillon and Hank and -"

Freya's head jolted up. "Wait a minute - what about me?"

"Need you here."

"I'm coming, Mal. I -"

"There's no way I'm gonna get River to stay, Frey. You know that. So I need someone I know can defend Serenity. Simon has to stay behind, in case we find Jayne – more central, you might say – but he's none too happy still with a gun. So that leaves you."

"Hank could -"

He sighed in exasperation. "Frey, we gonna have this argument every time? 'Cause if we are, you let me know. Or better yet, let the bad guys know so they give us a few more minutes 'fore they start cutting on Jayne."

Her eyes flashed. "That's low, Mal."

"And I need you here."

"I'll stay," Alex offered. "I was Osiris champion with a small bore."

Mal looked at him, struck once again by the twins' resemblance. "Alex, no offence, but I don't trust you. You might be my brother-in-law, but I don't know you, and your arrival here right now just tweaks the edge of coincidence a mite too much. I'd rather have you where I can keep an eye on you." He turned back to Freya. "'Sides, Kaylee's staying. I ain't letting her search, not in her condition."

The mechanic bristled, about to argue herself, but saw the look on his face. "I can try and narrow down the search area," she offered.

"You do that."

"Are we taking the shuttles?" Hank asked, feeling his heart beginning to beat faster.

"Mine's back by the church," Alex put in. "But it's at your disposal."

Mal considered. "Kaylee? How far?"

She stared down at the disembowelled tag. "Coupla miles. Maybe a bit more. Each side of town. Like I said, I can't be too accurate."

He stood straight. "Then no. Can't afford to be letting 'em know we're looking, in case they decide to cut and run." Inwardly he winced at the word _cut_. "Better give us the co-ordinates."

* * *

Kaylee had been right. The location of the tag readers were either end of the town, and as they jogged around the back of the empty streets, Mal had time to consider why his instincts were suddenly telling him this was a bad idea. He glanced over at River, but she was focused, intent on getting to the men who took her man, on making them talk.

"How much further?" He spoke into the comlink in his hand.

"_Close. Closer you get the more accurate readings I'm getting."_ She seemed to have got over her annoyance at being left out of matters, probably because Freya was with her.

"There," River said, pointing.

"You sure, albatross?" Mal asked.

"Sure."

"'_Bout hundred yards in front of ya,"_ Kaylee confirmed.

It was a house – little more than a two-storey shack, really - with a red light above the door, now extinguished. There was no sign of life, but a window was open upstairs, and a thin net curtain was flapping slightly in the breeze.

"Okay," Mal said into the com. "We're going in. If you don't hear from us in ten minutes, let Zoe know she's going to have to perform that heroic rescue she always wanted to."

"_Yes sir, captain."_ Kaylee's voice died as he switched off the com.

"Mal, everything okay?" Alex asked, out of breath from not being used to such physical exercise. He noted the tightness around the other man's mouth, more so than before.

"Shiny."

"Only you look –"

"Just want to get this over with." He looked at River. "No killing, _dong mah_? I want to talk to 'em, not have to clean blood off my boots."

She nodded then ran silently towards the back of the house.

* * *

At the other end of town, Zoe peered through grimy windows into a saloon, where desultory music filtered through the open door.

"_Kaylee says you're right on top of it,"_ Freya said, her voice sounding odd over the ether.

"Got them," Zoe breathed. "I see four. No, five. Looks like they got paid and split up." She felt Dillon touch her arm, saw him indicate he was going to take a look around. She nodded and he vanished on soft feet.

"Honey, this is wrong," Hank whispered.

"Freya, let Mal know we've got –"

Her husband pulled at her arm. "Zoe, wait."

She turned on him, cold anger freezing his blood. "What?"

"Why would they be here? Why aren't they guarding Jayne?"

"Maybe they don't need to."

"No, listen. Jayne's big and dangerous, and you don't just let your men go out on the town, not when you know we're going to be looking for you." He leaned forward, his chest touching her arm. "They know, Zoe."

She stared at him, then something of the horror he was suggesting filtered into her face. "Damn." She lifted the com to her lips. "Freya."

There was no response.

Hank took it from her, trying other frequencies, even checking the connections he could reach. "It's fine," he said.

"What is it?" Dillon asked, sidling back up to them.

"I think we're being jammed." He held the comlink up.

"Jammed?" Immediately the older man was on alert. "But that means –"

"You still might be wrong. We need to check."

"Dillon and I will. You get back to Serenity."

"We all do," Dillon interrupted. "They aren't armed, Zoe. And men like that would be, all the time."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

She didn't even wait to think, just turned and ran back towards where they had left their home.

* * *

River kneeled on the man's chest, pressing him back into the thin mattress. Binky was in her hand, touching his throat. "Where is Jayne?"

"What?" He couldn't have looked more shocked at the turn of events. Two men and a woman, crashing into the room where he was enjoying the whore's attentions, had put thoughts of sex right out of his mind. Right now he wasn't even sure he was going to survive.

"Jayne. Big man. Beard. My husband." She pushed with the knife, drawing a thin line of red against his flesh. "Where is he?"

"Wh … Who?" he stammered, eyes so wide they would have fallen from their sockets if he'd been standing.

"River, wait." Mal moved forward, and the naked woman in the corner cowered even more. "Read him."

She glanced up at him, questioning, but he motioned with his gun. Turning back to the man under her, she leaned forward, not really needing to get closer, but knowing she was likely to be more intimidating if she did. Then she pushed at his mind, through the fog surrounding her, physical contact making it easier to do what she needed. It was like swimming in fear, thick and cloying, clutching at her as she kicked her way below the surface.

Her eyes widened, and she sat back in surprise. "He doesn't know," she admitted.

"You mean they ain't told him?"

"No. He's not part of it. He was given money by someone, and a small box." She nodded towards the man's pants on the floor.

Mal picked them up, rifling through the pockets, coming up with a handful of coin, a roll of bills and a metal container. He opened it. "Gorramit,"

"What? What is it?" Alex asked from the doorway.

Mal held it up, showing a tiny transmitter still blinking with the power Serenity was putting through it. "We've been set up." He dropped everything in his hands and tugged the comlink from his coat. "Kaylee, you there?" There was no response. "Kaylee? Frey?"

There was nothing, not even static.

River was off the bed as if teleported, and by his side. "Danger," she whispered.

He looked down into her dark eyes. "Who to? Us?"

She shook her head. "Them."

* * *

Kaylee sat crossed-legged on the cargo-bay floor, staring at the portable Cortex screen in front of her. She'd rigged it so she could read the receivers without having to be on the bridge, wanting to be there when they brought Jayne home.

Next to her, sitting on the bench, Freya did a few lazy arm curls with one of the lighter weights.

"Did I tell you my Ma knew?" Kaylee said, still studying the screen.

"Knew what?"

"That I was pregnant. She knew before I did."

"Your Ma's gifted."

"She said she could see it in my face." She turned to look at Freya. "How's my face any different?"

Freya smiled slightly. "You're shining, Kaylee. Even now, worried about Jayne, you're shining from the inside out. I'm not surprised your mother could tell."

The young woman grinned. "Then how come you didn't know?"

"Peeking is bad. Ask Bethie." Freya laughed. "Besides, it's an effort to see anything at the moment."

"Still?"

"It's getting better. Things aren't quite so … woolly." She glanced up towards shuttle two where they'd put all the children for safety. "Like I can tell Ben and Hope are asleep, as is Caleb. Bethie is dozing."

"What about Ethan and Jesse?"

Freya's smile widened. "They're easy. Ethan is reading her a story."

"And Simon?"

"He's probably counting suture packets ready for Mal's inevitable injury, but … I can't tell."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "He's an adult, maybe. I don't know. Adults have a lot more natural defences than children, since there's a lot more going on in their minds at any one time. It creates a kind of … static."

"Does it … does it hurt?" She'd always wanted to ask, worried Bethie might be in pain when she peeked. "I mean, when you have to read people."

"No. But it's like …" Freya searched for a suitable analogy. "You ever taken a capture that went wrong, and superimposed one image on top of another?"

"Sure."

"It's a little like that. Seeing two things, both at the same time, and having to sort out which is which."

"It sounds painful."

"Okay, occasionally," Freya admitted. "But you get used to it mostly."

Kaylee smiled. "And I'm guessing it ain't really like that, least not so easy."

"Well, it's usually multiple minds, it's 3-D, there's emotions, sounds, textures, smells … it's complicated." She laughed again. "You get good at filtering."

"In which case I'm glad I ain't psychic."

"It can be useful. When it's working." Freya glanced down at the comlink in her hand. "You know, the others should really have called in by now."She lifted it to her lips and pressed the button. "Zoe. You there?" There was only silence. She clicked the button a couple of times. "Zoe, you answer me."

Kaylee tried with the other link. "Cap, are you listening?" At the lack of response she stared at the com, trying different frequencies and getting the same result. "You think they're in trouble?" She looked up.

"Not … I …" Freya was trying to see, to contact Mal, but there was nothing. "I can't tell." This was so frustrating. She'd never had a problem with distance before, but now all she could pick up was River's white anger, blinding her other senses. She stood up and ran for the stairs. "I'll check the bridge, make sure the system isn't down."

Kaylee nodded, lifting the portable screen onto her lap. "I might be able to use this, boost the signal."

"You do that." She'd reached and stepped through the upper doorway when there was a noise as if something had hit Serenity's hull. "What the hell was that?" she murmured, turning back. "Kaylee? What are you … wait!"

The young mechanic was on her feet, peering through the small window in the airlock door. "It's Jayne!" she said excitedly, slamming her hand down on the controls.

"No! Stop!" Freya ran down the metal staircase, her gun in her hand, but Kaylee had already slipped through the widening gap and was outside in the Ephesian sunshine.

"Momma, wait!" Bethie yelled from the shuttle, trying to untangle her legs from the blankets.

Kaylee half-turned, hearing her daughter's voice inside her head, but something stung the side of her neck.

"Kaylee!" Freya reached for her, but she was too late. Way, way too late.

Simon, alerted by Bethie's shout, hurried into the cargo bay. He staggered to a halt by the open doors, seeing no sign of his wife or Freya. Only Jayne, tumbled into the dust.


	11. Chapter 11

Mal was running, faster than he had ever done in his forty years before. Faster even than in the Valley, when it was only for his life. Now it was for someone else's, someone much more important. But as fast as he ran, it still felt like he was crawling, the whole world slowed to a snail's pace as he pounded through the dust.

He could hear Alex behind him, in real distress, but keeping up as well as he could, air rasping in his chest. If they didn't slow, he was probably going to have a heart attack.

He glanced to one side, to River gliding with long paces next to him, her long dark hair flying behind her like wings, as if she was going to take off at any moment. He wondered if she'd ever looked more beautiful.

She looked at him, swerving delicately around an old oil drum without even breaking pace, and for a moment their eyes locked, and he realised she knew exactly what he was doing. Thinking about anything rather than what they might find when they got back to Serenity. Thinking about anything but –

River put on a burst of speed he couldn't hope to match and turned down an alley towards the bulk of the Firefly.

Zoe was waiting on the ramp, her gun ready, her face flushed from her own exertion. As River flew past her into the cargo bay, Mal thudded up and skidded to a stop, trying to catch his breath.

"Freya and Kaylee," his first mate said without preamble. "They've taken them. Left Jayne."

"Is he hurt?" Mal had his hand pressed into his waist as the pain of running caught up with him.

"Simon's looking to him right now. Dillon and Hank are seeing if they can locate any tracks." She paused. "Sir, if the pattern stays the same, Kaylee and Freya will be dropped back here. We just have to -"

"No, Zoe," Mal interrupted. "I gotta feeling the game's over." He walked into his ship, his heart yammering against his ribs.

Alex had almost fallen over as he came to a halt, his hands on his knees and trying to drag air into abused lungs. "What game?" he managed to gasp.

Zoe didn't respond, just continued scanning the area, waiting for Hank and Dillon to return.

* * *

As he reached the infirmary Mal could see Simon inside, working on Jayne as he lay on the medbed. River looked like she was glued to his side. He wanted to go into that blue room, to shake the big man awake and find out what the hell had happened, but he knew he couldn't.

"My fault." A little voice intruded into his thoughts and he half-turned.

"Bethie?"

She was hiding behind one of the easy chairs, only her frightened face poking out. "My fault," she repeated.

He reached down and picked her up, settling her onto his lap as he sat down. "How is it your fault, sweetheart?"

"I wasn't looking hard enough."

A tear slid down her cheek and he wiped it tenderly away. "Can't see everything."

"But I should! That's what I am." She laid her head on his shoulder, letting her fear out. "And now Momma's gone."

"No, now look here," Mal said, pushing her away so he could look into her eyes. "Your Momma ain't gone. She's in trouble, yeah, but she still loves you. And she's coming home."

Bethie's brown eyes were still filled with tears. "But -"

"No buts, short stub. And being a Reader, well, that ain't all you are, either. That's an extra. And if you never saw anything ever again, you'd still be you. Bethie. Something of the heart of this boat."

She sniffed loudly. "Am I?"

"That you are." He had to smile a little. "And I bet you ain't got a hankie either."

"Course I have." She reached into a pocket sewn inside her dress and pulled out a small square of creased linen. "Momma makes sure I have one."

Mal took it from her and held it to her nose. "Then blow." She did as he told her, filling the common area with a honking sound, then he wiped her carefully. Using a clean corner, he proceeded to dry her tears. "That's better," he said approvingly. "Now I promise you, your Momma's gonna come home, okay?"

"Okay, Uncle Mal."

"And I keep my promises for the most part, don't I?"

"Yes, Uncle Mal."

"'Cause I'm the captain."

"Yes, Uncle Mal."

"Good. Now, where are your brothers and sisters?" Ever since Ethan was born, Bethie had looked on all the other children as her own personal property, and this had never changed.

"In the shuttle," she said. "I made Ethan stay to look after them."

"And that was the right thing to do. But I want you to go get them and take 'em all to the galley. I suspect they're hungry, and you know where the cookie tin is."

She gave a half giggle that turned into a hiccup. "I don't."

"Fibber." He smiled a little more and put her down onto the floor. "Go on. You got a job to do."

"Okay, Uncle Mal." She sniffed once more, wiping the back of her hand across her nose, then scampered off into the bay, passing Alex standing in the doorway.

"Why the galley?" Freya's twin asked.

"Want them out of the shuttle, in case we need it." Mal spoke shortly, any trace of the smiles he'd given Bethie wiped from his lips as if they'd never been.

"You think we will?"

Mal stood up, not looking at the other man but staring into the infirmary, remembering another time, different bones broken. "The things I'm thinking about you don't want to know."

Zoe pushed past Alex, Dillon and Hank at her back. "No sign, sir, except for another of those darts. We're locked up tight again, though."

"Any idea what happened?"

"According to Simon, he heard Bethie yell, came out and found Jayne in the dirt, and Kaylee and Freya missing." She stepped down to the floor.

"Pretty much what I figured." He glanced at her. "We were played, Zoe. Someone was watching us the whole time, saw us leave. Exactly what they were waiting for. Hell, they probably even knew we found the tag, knew we'd figure a way to backtrack it."

"Yes, sir."

"I just thought Frey'd have more sense."

"I've a feeling she was trying to protect Kaylee."

Mal nodded. "Just the kind of thing she'd do."

"Like any of us."

"Yeah." He gazed into the infirmary.

"He's kinda working on remote at the moment," Zoe added quietly. "What with it being his wife missing."

"I know the feeling." He seemed to shake himself, then turned to look at her. "Stay here. Keep me appraised of any progress."

"Where will you be, sir?"

"On the bridge. Trying to find Niska." He climbed the stairs, two at a time, out of sight.

Hank crossed the common area to his wife. "He believes it now?"

Zoe released a slow breath. "I think he has all along. He just didn't want to."

"This is bad, isn't it?"

"Well, it sure ain't good." She touched his hand briefly then stepped into the infirmary.

"Cat and mouse," Alex murmured.

"What?" Dillon looked sharply at him.

"Haven't you ever seen a cat playing with a mouse?" He glanced at the older man. "Our cook used to have a cat. An old ginger thing, so fat you'd swear it couldn't walk, let alone catch mice. Then one day I came on it in the garden. It had cornered a mouse, and was … well, playing. It's the only way to describe it. Pretending to let it go, then pouncing on it again. The poor thing already looked like one of its legs was broken, and there was blood all down its back." He shook his head, seeing into the past.

"What happened?"

Alex refocused. "Sorry?"

"To the mouse."

"I killed it. I couldn't let the cat carry on. Afterwards, the damn thing scowled at me, ran its claws into my leg, then took off like a rocket. I never knew it could move so fast."

"Let's just hope Mal isn't the mouse, then," Dillon commented.

"Absolutely."

"How old were you? At the time."

"Eight. And I was a real brat."

"That bad?"

"Worse. If you think children are self-centred, I was the prime example of the 'verse revolving around me. And I made sure everyone knew it. Especially Ele … Freya." He swallowed. "And I haven't got anywhere near apologising enough."

"You will."

"I hope you're right." He swallowed again. "God, I hope you're right."

* * *

Up on the bridge, Mal was staring at the controls, not really knowing what to do next. If the truth were told, he was waiting, knowing that it would come soon, probably just a voice, telling him what to do if he ever wanted to see the two women alive again. And there would be threats, possibly even graphic descriptions of what would happen to them if he didn't do exactly as instructed.

Reputation. That's what this was all about. Reputation. His versus Niska's. Honour against corruption. Not that he considered himself very honourable any more, but Freya had saved that last little piece of it, kept it warm, made it grow. Without her he wondered where he'd be, what he'd be doing, even whether he'd be alive at all. Probably not, not in any real sense of the word. Living and breathing, maybe, but no real life. And it wasn't just her this time. Kaylee was his sister, even if there was no blood between them. That was why he'd understood when Simon had discovered him and River were only half-siblings, why he could talk River out of the panic she'd felt. Blood didn't matter. Family did. And they were all his family, come what may.

It wouldn't be long. Of course, logic dictated Niska would make him stew for a few hours, maybe a day or two, just to make it as bad as possible. Although logic didn't really come into this, and he couldn't feel much worse than he did already, imagining what might be happening to them both, the screams and the blood … Besides, Niska wanted revenge, and that was always sweeter up close, perpetrating that directly on Mal's body. So it wouldn't be long.

There was a small chime announcing a wave coming in, and he sat up, relieved. He was right.

* * *

"Well?" Hank asked, standing up as Zoe stepped out of the infirmary.

"Jayne's lucky. Apart from the drug they used, the most damage is to his hands. Looks like someone stamped on 'em a few times."

"Are they bad?" Dillon glanced over her shoulder.

"His left wrist is broken, and there's dislocations of several fingers, but they'll heal. Simon was more worried about the fact that it looked like they had to use several hits of Jutoprocaine to take him down."

"That's Jayne," Hank said, almost proudly. "Strong as an ox and twice as smart."

"He'll be waking up soon, at least according to the doc."

"And then?" Alex asked. "What do we do then?"

"We find them."

"But we have no idea of where they are. They might even be off planet already."

"Then we -" Zoe stopped as she felt a slight vibration through her boots, and looked up into Hank's horrified eyes.

"The shuttle," he agreed, turning and running for the bridge.

"What? What is it?" Alex called, but they ignored him.

Zoe was at her husband's heels, at least until the top of the catwalk where she headed for the other shuttle. Maybe she could cut him off before he did something incredibly stupid …

Sliding into the pilot's chair, she tried to bring the systems on line.

"_Gou niang yang de_," she muttered before dragging the comlink down. "Hank, I'm locked out."

"_Trying to clear it."_

"Can you track the other shuttle?"

"_Yeah. Least he's not disabled that. Looks like he's headed towards one of the other islands."_

"Keep an eye on it. And hurry with …" Suddenly she slammed her fist down onto the console.

"_Honey? You okay?"_ Hank sounded concerned.

"Shiny. Just get me into the air."

"_Still trying."_

She knew what had happened. Didn't even need Hank to hack into the captain's waves. 'Come alone', the message would have said. 'Or they will die.' Probably with descriptions. Maybe it had even offered an exchange, Freya and Kaylee for Mal. And he'd walk willingly into the fiery pits of hell for either of them, but not if it meant putting the rest of the crew at risk. So he went alone.

Absently she reached up with a still throbbing hand to touch her shirt just above her left breast, where his flesh had once rested. She wondered what part of him they'd be bringing home this time.

"_Got it!"_ Hank said triumphantly, even as the lights on the console flickered back on. _"And the shuttle's landed. Furthest island in this group."_

"Then it's already too late," she breathed. She took a breath. "Hank, I know she won't want to be away from Jayne, but get River –"

"_I'm already here_." It was the young psychic's voice.

Zoe couldn't help her lips twitching. She could imagine her standing at Hank's shoulder, and him having his hand on his heart, trying to calm its frantic beating. "Look after Serenity. Hank and I will go pick up the other shuttle."

"_Wait. What about the captain?"_ Hank interjected.

Zoe fired the engines. "Niska has him."

* * *

Voices. Calling him. Saying his name. The blackness below, beckoning to him to fall back, to let it take him, cushion him. The light ahead, dragging him forward.

He remembered taking the shuttle, locking everything else out, and flying to the co-ordinates he was given. Just a rock sitting in the ocean. Somehow a handful of trees had managed to survive, and it was almost pretty, but he wasn't there to admire the view. As he climbed out, all he could think was that he was closer to her now. Then … nothing.

He could hear his heart beating, the breath in his lungs. Then pain. Pain in his neck, centring on the left side. Metal at his back. Under his hands. Cold against his fingertips.

And always the voices. Shouting now. Swearing. Begging.

He forced his eyes open.

"Mal?"

"Frey?" He tried to lift his head, but it was too heavy. Someone had tied a weight to it that was dragging it down, and it was all he could to stop from sliding in the restraints.

"Oh, Mal. Why did you come?"

"Don't be crazy. You think …" He tried to clear his throat. "You think I'd leave you here?" He strained and finally his chin came up, and he was able to look at her. "Frey …"

"It's all right. There was … an altercation." Dried blood ran down her face from her scalp, more in her hair, and he could see a darkening bruise across her ribs. Across her ribs.

Realisation struck. She was only in her underwear, tied to a metal tripod like the one he was attached to.

"Kaylee?" he asked, licking dry lips.

"Over there." She nodded.

His eyes followed, and he could see his mechanic hanging on a third frame, her top clothes missing. She was almost unconscious, although her lips were moving slightly. "Is she …"

"I think it's that drug they used. She's having some kind of reaction." Freya struggled against the restraints but only managed to tear the skin on her wrists. "She won't answer me."

Mal tried. "Kaylee? Come on, _xiao mei-mei_, you don't wanna be sleeping this time of the day. Got too much work to do."

She lifted her head and smiled, but almost immediately her chin fell back to her chest.

"Oh, _mei-mei_," he muttered.

"Ah, always the solicitous captain. Willing to give himself up so others might live. I see you have not changed." It wasn't a human voice, but harsh, metallic. Artificial.

Mal tried to turn his head against the pain in his neck so he could see, his heart pounding as he recognised the phrasing, if not the voice itself. "Where are you?"

"So anxious to die? And I expect two days, minimum. I have new toys, just for you. Very special." The voice got closer, and finally the old man came into view. "Mr Reynolds. And now the circle is, how you say, complete." Niska smiled, at least as much as the ruin of his face would allow.


	12. Chapter 12

Mal wasn't sure whether Niska didn't care about the scars, or if he in fact liked the effect it had on people. He suspected the latter. Maybe it was a side effect of the drug, but even after the things he'd seen, particularly during the war, he still couldn't suppress a slight shudder of disgust.

The Alliance surgeons had done well, piecing Niska's face back together, but that was all. There was little or no cosmetic work done to hide the suture lines, the obvious skin grafts. He looked like what he was, an experiment. No longer would he resemble a kindly old gentleman, someone's grandfather or great uncle. Now children would run screaming from him.

But it was his voice, that was the most unearthly. It seemed to issue not from his mouth, but from a device strapped to his throat.

"Ah. You are perhaps studying the _zloduch_ _hlas balit do krabice_?" He touched his neck, careful to avoid the actual metalwork. "Is intriguing, but necessary. I think of it as a gift. From your wife." He glanced between them. "And I perhaps apologise for her state. My men were not prepared for her to overcome the drug so fast. She is …unusual."

"You could say that."

Freya struggled against the restraints again. "Let me go and I'll show you just how unusual I am."

Niska reached out, patted her on the shoulder. She shook him off. "Patience, Mrs Reynolds. All in good time." He turned towards Kaylee. "Although perhaps that will not be long enough for them both."

* * *

"Is he totally insane?" Dillon asked, running a hand through his dark hair.

Zoe and Hank had brought the shuttle back, and now Serenity's first mate was holding a council of war in the common area.

"We could have followed," Alex added. "Hidden on board."

"Niska isn't stupid," Zoe said shortly.

"I still don't see why he didn't tell us." Dillon dropped onto the sofa, unable to stand any longer.

"Because."

"That's a ridiculous answer."

"He didn't want anyone else to die," Hank explained quietly.

"So he walks into the lion's den …" Dillon laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You know, it's just what I'd expect from him."

Zoe palmed the hilt of her gun. "Just what do you mean by that?"

He held up his hand. "Nothing like … I'm not belittling him, Zoe. Just the opposite. The truth is, I'm beginning to admire him more and more. The man's my kind of crazy."

She lowered her hand. "I'm sure he'd appreciate you saying that."

"I hope to be able to tell him in person." He took a deep breath. "I don't suppose he took a comlink with him?"

"No," Hank said unhappily. He'd counted them all, twice, just in case.

"Again, no point. I'm sure Niska's men searched him before they took him back," Zoe added.

"But what about Freya? And Kaylee?" Alex asked, leaning forward. "Wasn't it supposed to be a trade?"

Whatever she was about to answer was lost as movement in the infirmary took all their attention. Jayne was waking up.

* * *

"You know what is the greatest tool I can use?" Niska leaned over Mal. "Is imagination. You know what I do. What I like. And you know what I will do to your wife after I finish with you."

"Leave her alone."

Niska picked up a knife, the edge gleaming wickedly in the soft light. He walked towards Freya. "How I will use this on her flesh. Perhaps even turn her over to my men before I finish." He ran the flat of the blade across her breast. "How she will die." He moved it up to her shoulder, turning it so the edge indented the skin above her collarbone. He pushed, feeling the skin part, and Freya gasped, her eyes widening as the pain hit. "Is so easy, yes?" Niska's eyes glittered behind his glasses as he breathed in the scent of blood. "Perhaps I take your voice, as you took mine." He lifted the knife to her neck as she tried to twist away. He glanced at Kaylee, swaying slightly in her restraints, her eyes glassy. "Or maybe I make you watch as I kill your friend."

"_Cao ni ma_!" Mal was struggling against the restraints but couldn't loosen them.

Niska handed the knife to his torturer, receiving a cloth in return which he used to fastidiously wipe his fingers. He smiled, as much as his face let him. "Oh yes. I think now we meet the real you."

Mal swallowed hard. "Why are they still here? You promised they'd go free."

He waved a hand as if it was of no consequence. "I lied." He seemed to think for a moment. "But perhaps you are right. I should stick to my word. It is, after all, reputation." He leaned one hand on Mal's tripod. "You can choose. I let only one go. You decide which."

Mal couldn't speak, could hardly breathe. His heart had stopped in his chest, and the useless lump of muscle had somehow lodged in his throat. Even though he'd guessed it was coming, he knew he could never do it. He wanted to say Freya's name, know she was safe, alive, no matter what happened to him. But Kaylee's eyes haunted him, and he couldn't condemn her to the torture he knew she'd face.

"Come, come, Mr Reynolds. Cat got your tongue?" Niska smiled, a sound that was probably meant to be a chuckle issuing from his artificial voicebox. "Is good, yes? I hurt you and I don't even make you bleed." He waved his hand. "Is no matter. I already decide." He gestured to his men who released Kaylee's bonds. The young woman fell forward, held up only by their arms. "Take her."

"No, wait –" Mal forced the words out of a suddenly dry mouth.

"Captain?" Kaylee managed to lift her head and gaze at him, her eyes huge, her face confused.

"My men will take care of her." He moved closer to Freya, the light fracturing off his glasses, his words having as many different meanings. "I always intended it to be your wife, Mr Reynolds." He ran a finger down the scars that would never fade, making her shiver at his touch. "She is responsible. Made me what I am today. Perhaps I will do the same for her." Then he was at Mal's side, breath hot on his cheek. "But first she will watch as I finish what I began with you so long ago. And you will die screaming, knowing she is next."

Mal watched them half drag Kaylee out of the room, his concern torn between the two women. "Where are they taking her?"

"Is no matter. Until I decide." He gestured and a man stepped forward from the shadows, handing him a glass of whisky. "Now. Where were we?"

* * *

"Sorry, Riv," Jayne said, his voice dry and crackly.

She quickly got some water in a cup, holding it to his lips. "No need."

He drank deeply then lay back, his eyes fixed on hers. "Sure there is. I was stupid and got caught."

"Too many to fight."

"That ain't the point."

"It is."

"Not gonna agree with ya, moonbrain." He glanced down at his hands. "Figure they did a number on me 'cause I managed to cut one of 'em."

"Not broken. Too much."

He turned the splints this way and that. "Don't look like I'm gonna be firing Vera for a while."

"Then I will."

Jayne shifted on the medbed so he could see out into the common area, almost afraid to ask. "_Bao bei_, where are they?"

She didn't answer, but her eyes filled with moisture.

"Niska has them," Simon said quietly, hugging his arms around his body.

"How many?"

"Mal. Freya. Kaylee," River listed, her voice barely registering.

"_Cao_." The big man struggled to sit up.

"You need to rest," Simon insisted, moving forward and trying to keep him lying down.

"Fix these," Jayne demanded, holding up his hands.

"I have."

"No. Fix 'em so I can fire a gun. We're gonna go after 'em."

"Jayne, I –"

"Do it, doc."

"We don't know where they are," Zoe said, stepping into the infirmary.

"Then we find 'em."

"It's not that easy." She moved to the medbed and explained what had happened. "So we've got no idea where to even start looking."

Jayne's face had hardened throughout the telling. "So you're just gonna sit here on your backsides and wait for 'em to be dropped off in little pieces?"

Simon took a step back, cursing his medical knowledge as it threw up images of post mortems, of accident victims, of people who'd been …

"Hank's already done a sweep but there's no sign of any ships."

"Ya think you'd be able to just pick 'em up?" Jayne managed to get his legs over the edge of the bed. "You gotta get out and look."

Zoe's back stiffened. "They could be off-planet by now."

"Sure, they might. But we don't know 'til we've checked out every gorram island on this _sou chou_ moon."

"I agree with Jayne," Dillon put in. "We have to look."

"Only there might be a quicker way." Jayne turned to his wife. "Moonbrain, can you see them?"

She shook her head, blinking back tears. "No. All I feel is you. Wanting to find you." _To save you_, she added silently.

"Then you gotta tell yourself I'm here, and I'm alive." He raised a hand to touch her face, his fingertips barely making contact but it warmed her through. "You gotta try and see 'em. Find 'em, River."

"I can't."

"Try, honey. For us all."

She gazed at him, reading his guilt at having allowed this to happen, then nodded. She pushed at the fog, at the anxiety she had for Jayne, to see through to the layers beneath.

Simon couldn't stand there. Not with his sister having got her husband back, while his own wife was still in the hands of a psychotic, and feeling the worst kind of heel because of the jealousy raging through him. He backed out of the infirmary, ignoring Dillon's call to him. He needed to move, to see something that was hers, touch it, know that she really existed and wasn't just a figment of his fevered imagination.

He couldn't go to their bunk. It was too close to Bethie's, and he didn't need to be psychic to feel the anguish rolling from her room. He couldn't face his little daughter, either. He'd have to lie, to tell her that her mother would be home soon, safe and sound, and he couldn't do that. Not when he remembered having to reattach Mal's ear, then dealing with other injuries on too many of the crew after Wayborn.

He started up the stairs, slowly at first, then gaining speed until he staggered to a halt the engine room, leaning on the doorway to look inside, seeing her space, her engine turning gently, her hammock ready and waiting for her. Except now it seemed as if all the warmth had leached away, leaving nothing but metal and blood-coloured rust.

Taking a deep breath, smelling the perfume that hung around her all the time, he noted with a clinically detached part of his mind that the room was fairly tidy. She must have made the space monkeys behave themselves, otherwise Mal would have been shouting.

He shuddered. _No_, he told himself. _Don't think of Mal. Using the dermal mender on his ear … No. Think of Kaylee. Concentrate on her._

He looked down at the workbench, seeing a tiny box on a piece of fabric. The beacon. One of the beacons she'd made for him and River, to keep them safe, to carry whenever they were off ship so that no matter what happened the crew could find … find … find … It was as if his mind was stuck in a capture rut, playing the same image over and again. Then he realised why. He pushed himself away, running out of the door and almost falling down the stairs back to the infirmary.

"She took the beacon," he panted. "Kaylee took the beacon."

Zoe jerked her head up. "What?"

"She was showing it to me, before. God, it seems so long ago now, but just before River started saying Jayne was in trouble. She put it in her pocket."

River's eyes widened. "Still there," she said, jumping to her feet and passing him on the way to the bridge.

"We don't know the frequency," Hank pointed out, his boots thudding up the stairs behind her.

"Cycle through them all. I'll tell you when it's the right one."

"Can you do that, River?" Zoe asked, keeping pace.

"Yes."

Back in the infirmary Jayne stood up, his knees threatening to give way until he felt Simon put his shoulder under him, helping him stand.

"You know this is a bad idea, don't you?" the young doctor said mildly.

"Yeah. But I'm kinda known for that, ain't I?"

"I suppose you are." He helped him towards the door.

"What about my hands?" Jayne asked, trying to ignore the throbbing in those particular extremities.

"Let's find them first. Then we'll see."

* * *

Kaylee opened her eyes, then wished she hadn't. It wasn't that there was too much light – in fact it was quite dim, but it hurt just to look. And the room seemed very tall. Ah. No. She was lying on the floor, with nothing but bare grey metal in front of her. Her eyelids closed of their own accord, and she lay still for what seemed like hours, just listening to the air moving in and out of her lungs.

_Get up_. For a moment she thought it was someone in the room with her, then she realised it was her own self. _Get up. You have to help them_. She wanted to shrug, say that she couldn't move, that everything hurt, that she was just Kaylee, a mechanic on an old Firefly. Nothing more. _You're all they've got_, her treacherous other inner voice added. _And it's your fault._

Her own fault. If nothing else, even if she could barely move, all this was her own fault. If only she hadn't rushed out when she'd seen Jayne all scrunched up like that on the dirt, had listened to Freya, now they wouldn't be in this mess.

A tear ran down into her hair. Now Niska had Mal and Freya, and she was … someplace else.

_Try._

* * *

"Well?" Zoe was holding onto the back of the pilot's chair, her fingers digging in so hard she was surprised the metal wasn't bending.

Hank ran the sequence again. And again. Finally he sat back, rubbing his hands across his face before glancing at River in the seat next to him.

"Nothing," she admitted, drawing her feet up onto the chair and hugging her knees to her chest.

"Try it again," Jayne urged, leaning on the doorway.

"We've been trying!" Hank span in his seat, forcing Zoe to step back. "What the _diyu_ do you think we've been doing?"

"Making daisy chains for all I know."

"Well, for your information, I've been running the frequencies Kaylee's likely to have used, trying to make her beacon give me something. Anything. Only it's dead."

"Is it us?" Dillon asked.

"I don't know. I don't think so." He sighed heavily.

"Wait." Simon held up a hand then ran out off the bridge, hurrying through the galley towards the engine room. He was back in less than a minute, holding something out in his hand. "Try it again, Hank."

Zoe stared down at the beacon, half-wrapped in a scrap of fabric. "Do it."

The pilot turned back to the console, his fingers dancing over the keys. He glanced at River. "Anything?"

She wasn't looking at him, just staring at the beacon. "Stop," she ordered. "Back."

"Okay." Hank did as he was told, much slower, taking it back down the frequency one notch at a time until –

"There."

A minute glint of light that might have been a reflection caught their eye, pulsating on top of the tiny box still in Simon's palm.

"That's it?" Alex stepped forward. "The right frequency?"

Hank nodded, hands flying to lock it in before he lost it again. "That's it."

"Anything anywhere else?" Zoe was leaning over his shoulder again.

"I …" He stopped, biting his lip.

"What?"

"I thought, just for a sec, there was something. But it's gone again."

"The other beacon?"

"If it was it was just a single blip."

"Is Kaylee likely to have used a different frequency for it?" Dillon asked.

"I don't see why." Hank stared at his screen.

"Was it enough?" Zoe put her hand on her gun.

"No. Not even a little bit of enough," Hank replied unhappily.

"_Fan shou yin_," Jayne muttered, and nobody was about to disagree.

* * *

Niska was chatty, watching his torturer work on Mal, enjoying the way he was trying hard not to scream, only grunting with the pain as the probe slid through his skin.

"I was tempted. Take your crew one by one, hurt them, perhaps to the point of death, then give them back. It would be painful for you, yes? Not knowing which would be next. Or where. Or when it would be a body you found, instead of living person." He leaned in closer, and Mal could just discern the faint sweetness of decay. "I am a patient man, Mr Reynolds. But where you are concerned, I wanted to see you here, like this. Afraid."

The torturer removed the metal and Mal could breathe again. "Of course I'm afraid," he admitted. "Anyone who says he isn't is a fool. Or not human."

"Is not the case. Once you have been a Reaver there is nothing left to fear."

"How about meeting me in a dark alley one cold, lonely night?" Mal asked, spitting onto the floor, a little blood mixed with it where he'd bitten his cheek.

"You will not live long enough to fulfil that promise, Mr Reynolds. Neither will your wife."

Mal glanced involuntarily at Freya, but she hadn't moved, her eyes closed, her head hanging down. He knew she'd had to close herself off from him, pull back as far as she could, else the pain would bring madness on her too. But that lack of her made him feel lost. _Not lost, xin gan_, he heard unexpectedly in his mind. _I'm here._

_I'm hurting you._ He swallowed, tasting more blood.

_Not you._

_Frey –_ He bit back a scream as something slid between his ribs, and Freya moaned.


	13. Chapter 13

Kaylee was cold. She could feel the coolness of the metal beneath her reaching up into her body, chilling her to the bone. She managed to pry one eye open enough to see she was only wearing her underthings, and the cotton bra and panties were doing nothing to keep her body temperature up. Her inner voice had been quiet for a while, and she idly wondered if that meant she was freezing to death, but told herself, in no uncertain terms, not to be such a baby. It wasn't that cold. Just … not warm.

_Need to get up._

Great. It was back. _Can't_, she thought. _Nothing works_.

_Then get dressed_. The voice wasn't sympathetic at all.

_Nothing to wear._ She felt sure she'd stumped it.

_Look._

She didn't want to. It was so much easier to just lie there, waiting for someone else to make the decision as to what should happen. Maybe she could even go back to sleep. Except it seemed as if the inner voice had control now, and her eyes opened again, falling on her coveralls lying just a few inches from her hand. Except it might as well be half a light year. _How?_ she asked, putting as much venom behind it as she could.

_Try._

It was no good. She might be going crazy – hell, going? Already gone, way up in the stratosphere with River. They could probably swap stories using some of those long words the Tams loved so much. _No. Stick to the plan. If I have one._ She took a deep breath and reached out towards her clothes. Her fingers twitched. _Come on, Kaylee-girl_, she said to herself. _Gotta do this. Relying on you._

This time her hand moved enough to touch the rough fabric, and it seemed to galvanise her. Closing her fingers, she pulled the coveralls towards herself, then wondered what to do next.

* * *

There was a break in the immediate pain, but Mal almost wished the torturer was still working. Anything to keep Niska's attention away from Freya.

He was studying her as if she was a specimen under a microscope. His voice, eerie and otherworld, hissed out words without emotion, except perhaps curiosity. "How does it feel?"

"What?" She looked at him, such virulent hate in her eyes he should have fallen dead on the spot.

"When I hurt him. Seeing his blood."

"I've seen it before."

"And how many times have you saved him?"

"He saved me."

Niska smiled his crooked smile. "No more." He glanced at Mal. "I have great hopes of him. Days, perhaps."

She spat at him, spattering his cheek. "_Hwoon dahn._"

"Words." He removed the handkerchief from his breast pocket and delicately whipped his face. "Tell me, do you know the writings of Shan Yu?"

"Not that old thing again. Didn't your Ma give you any other books?" Mal asked, trying to interrupt, but his voice was more cracked than he liked, and Niska ignored him.

"Heard of him. Never read them myself." She was trying to calm the beating of her heart, her hands curled into fists. "Not really into sadism."

"He wrote on the true self, and how we can see that self."

"Something about a volcano, I seem to recall." She licked the sweat from her top lip, knowing her skin was perversely marred with gooseflesh.

"His writings are something of an inspiration to me," Niska admitted. "And when I see the tattoo on your back, I wonder if that is the real you."

Mal swallowed hard.

"It's just a tattoo." Freya glared into Niska's face. "Just ink."

"I think not. Perhaps I will one day find out what they mean. I think they are old."

"Think what you like."

Niska leaned in close. "Perhaps I keep them. As a souvenir."

It was a relief when the torturer picked up another instrument.

* * *

There was no way she was going to be able to drag the coveralls on, but at least she could gain some warmth from them. Tugging them as best she could across her body, it still took half a dozen goes before they were covering even a quarter of her, but it seemed to make an immediate difference, and a trembling she hadn't noticed began to subside.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then jerked as a muscle spasm flashed through her. It made her heart race, and she moaned slightly.

Something clattered to the floor next to her.

* * *

"We gotta try something else." Jayne was sweating slightly. "We got three shuttles and the ship. It ain't like there's that much land around, just islands. There's enough of us can fly."

"And if they're off planet already?" Zoe asked.

"Better'n just sitting here." He leaned back on the wall.

"You need to lie down again." Simon was watching him carefully. "Before you fall down."

"Ain't got time. And they sure as hell don't." He stared at Zoe. "It's been hours already. You think Niska's just talking to 'em?"

She didn't need to think. She'd seen … "Fine. But Simon's right. You need to go back to the infirmary."

"Not 'til they're home. Ain't going anywhere 'til they're home."

* * *

It was a tiny box. She stared at it, trying to make sense of it.

_It's the beacon_, her inner voice said. _Dummy_.

_Not a dummy. Just …_ Something wasn't quite right. Something with the casing.

* * *

"Alex, you take this group." Zoe touched the map on the portable Cortex screen on the dining room table. "If you see anything, you yell, don't even consider trying to be a hero. That gets you dead."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin to be a hero," he admitted. "It's not exactly been in my life plan."

"What was?" Jayne growled. "Sittin' at home getting more rich?"

He wasn't going to take offence. "Pretty much."

Zoe ignored the sidetrack in conversation. "Hank will take Serenity and go to the islands on the far side of the world. Same proviso."

"You're the boss," he said, smiling. It faltered. "I mean, you're not, but since Mal isn't here right now …"

She put her hand briefly on his, then tapped the screen again. "I'll take this group, and River … where's River?"

"She went back to the bridge," Simon said. "She still thinks the beacon will work."

"_Xing bu tong,_" Zoe said under her breath. "We don't have time for this." She strode out of the galley, calling, "River!"

* * *

The casing. She squinted, trying to see, then realised it had come apart slightly along one seam. She'd had to use pressure seal, not welding, to hold it together, otherwise she might have melted the parts, and it had given. She'd meant to figure out some way of making it watertight, but –

_Don't think. Do!_ Her inner voice was getting cranky.

_Shut up!_

_Then just get on and do it!_

Promising to ring the neck of whoever it was in her brain, she bit her lip in concentration. Trying to keep the trembling to a minimum, she took hold of the beacon between her thumb and forefinger, cradling her hand in the other in an attempt to be in control. She squeezed.

* * *

"River, what the _diyu_ are you doing?" Zoe demanded, climbing the steps two at a time. "We tried that and it didn't work. We need to –"

"Look!" The psychic leaned forward in the co-pilot's chair, her nose almost touching the console as something flickered, and a beep sounded. Then another. And another.

Hank was running, barely touching the steps as he passed his wife, slamming down into his seat. "Gorramit. She did it."

"What?" Zoe demanded to know.

He pointed. "The beacon. The _huang mao_ did it."

"That's my wife you're talking about," Simon said mildly, feeling an odd mix of euphoria overlaid with anxiety.

"Sorry. But it's working."

"Where are they?" Alex asked.

"Here."

"What?"

"Same group, just another island." Hank snorted. "Very close."

"Would you have checked these ones?" Dillon asked, feeling Jayne come up behind him, leaning on the bulkhead.

Zoe ground her teeth. "Eventually."

"Keep your friends close, your enemies closer," he muttered under his breath.

"Alex, where's your shuttle?" Zoe turned to him.

"By the church."

She laid her hand on her gun. "You armed?"

"No, but –"

"Then you'll fly. We're going to take a look." She glanced at her husband. "Hank, help Jayne get the weapons ready for when we get back, and have Serenity warmed over. We might need her."

Jayne grunted in acknowledgement.

"I'm coming with you," River said quickly. "If I'm closer I might be able to … to help."

Zoe looked at her, then nodded. "Then let's go."

* * *

_Good_.

Kaylee smiled, the corners of her mouth moving just a little. _See? Knew I could do it._ She closed her eyes. _Sleepy now._

_No._

_Why not?_

_Can't sleep. Need to stay awake for the others._

She groaned. _Tired._

_List the major components of a Firefly's engine._

_What?_ This was annoying. All she wanted to do now was take a little rest, and that damn inner voice wouldn't let her.

_Sleep and you die._

_Just a nap._

_No. Major components. List them._

Kaylee sighed. _Fine. Well, first there's the –_

_No. Out loud._

_What?_

_Out loud. Talking. Remember?_

_Cun xue jiu._

_Fine. Whatever. Just talk. As if you were explaining it to Simon. Or maybe Mal. Captain dummy talk._

Using her fingers to trace the invisible workings of Serenity, Kaylee sighed again and began, this time saying the words, slurring them at first, then getting stronger. "The standard radion accelerator core's easy. It's made up primarily of …"

* * *

"Keep low," Zoe advised. They'd already taken the shuttle in a big circle to come up on the island from the other side, furthest away from Serenity. "Make it look like you're going to come in to land. We'll get as much information on the sensors as we can."

"They're not picking anything up at the moment."

"Can you set for live capture?"

"Sure." He reached out and flicked a few switches. "Done. We'll be recording everything as we fly over."

"Good." She glanced down at him from where she stood at his back. He was sweating slightly, even though the air inside the small vehicle was cool. "You're doing great."

"Like I said, I've no experience of being a hero." He shook his head. "Not like all of you."

"We ain't heroes."

"You are," he insisted. "Zoe, there are so many people I know who'd have just walked away. Hell, run as fast as they could. Not being willing to risk everything to get their people back."

"That ain't saying much about your friends."

He made an odd sound, and she realised he was swallowing a laugh. "Friends? I don't really have them. Not any more. I have acquaintances, colleagues, and a whole load of employees, but … friends? No, not really."

"You've got your wife. Your daughters. And you've got Freya." She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sure you can handle much else."

This time the laugh was released. "You know, I'm not sure I could." He tensed up again. "Coming up on the island now."

"Take it slow. Don't make it look like we're looking, but try and get as much as you can."

He swallowed. "Will do."

River, sitting in the body of the shuttle, her legs caught under her, closed her eyes and sent out her mind, more determined than ever to reach through the fog, to cut it to pieces, to see it slide away as she dug deeper.

There.

Mal … in pain as a man twisted a knob to send electricity flooding through a number of probes on his chest. No. _In_ his chest. His back arched, teeth locked together as every nerve ending fired.

She whimpered and moved on.

Freya … using all of her mental strength to bolster her husband, taking some of the agony into herself to try and make it more bearable for him.

She wanted to touch, to tell her they were there, but she was wary of interrupting that intensity, of making it falter. She hugged herself instead and carried on through the minds.

Niska …

She pulled back immediately. Insanity, warped and black, rolling like tar heated beyond endurance, dragging at her, wanting to take her down into the pit with him. And the memories of being a Reaver, tinted with a faint sorrow at having to lose the power, the anger, the compulsion for flesh as they gave him the antidote. She shuddered, searching.

Kaylee … like a breath of fresh air. Talking. Her own lips moved in synch as she recognised the words. And there was something else, almost another entity, making the mechanic talk. River smiled, even as it got fainter as they moved away. Mal called it his 'inner captain'. It looked as if Kaylee had an 'inner mechanic' too.

Zoe turned. "Are they there?"

River opened her eyes and nodded. "Yes. And alive. But we need to hurry."

* * *

As the shuttle landed next to Serenity, Hank was already poring over the details of the scans.

"Sensors don't show a damn thing," he said as Zoe and Alex joined the others behind him.

"Try the visual."

The screen flickered and changed to a fast moving image of the sea, and everyone felt a moment's disorientation. Then Hank drew the image back, and slowed it down, until they could see the individual waves.

"Okay, now forward." Zoe leaned over the back of his chair. "Slowly."

"Your wish …"

The picture moved, and Simon had to tell his treacherous stomach that it wasn't feeling seasickness, no, not at all.

The water changed, becoming more choppy as if the land beneath was shelving.

"There." Dillon's finger stabbed out.

"See it." Hank steadied the image.

Zoe's eyebrows raised. "What the hell …"

"It's a yacht." Alex shook his head. "I can't believe we didn't see it."

"That's a yacht?"

"A Denari class. One of the latest models, too."

"Looks like a spaceship to me," Jayne muttered.

"It is. But it's also designed to float so you can have an ocean-going cruise when you get to wherever you're going." Alex smiled. "I looked at them once, before I realised it was just because they were big and shiny, and just another toy for people who wanted to get richer."

They all stared at the screen, at the grey ship nestled into the small bay beneath the overhang of the cliff, almost filling it, only the bow up against the strip of sand. If this was a boat, it was in capital letters, about the same way a popgun was to Vera.

"How come the sensors couldn't see that?" Simon said softly. "It's huge."

"Camonet," Hank supplied, tinkering with the readings.

"Now you know I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then you know how we feel sometimes." Hank didn't mean to be snarky, but the tension was getting to him.

"It's camouflage," Zoe explained, her voice equally low. "It distorts sensor readings, makes that … thing look like a big rock."

"So now we know it's there, and the others are still alive, we're goin' in?" Jayne asked, looking at each of them.

"Have to save them," River whispered, leaning against him.

* * *

"How'd they save you?" Mal asked bitterly during a lull while Niska fortified himself with another whisky. It had taken several of the old man's men to tie him down to a flat bench so his feet were slightly higher than his torso, but the remains of the drug in his system coupled with the damage Niska's torturer had already done made him too weak to do much more than be a nuisance to them, although his shirt now hung off him in blood-stained ribbons. "Turn you back from a Reaver into the bastard you always were?"

"They found me," Niska said, turning back and sipping his drink. "After two days. Do you know what I did to the bodies locked away with me?"

"I can guess."

"I do not think you can. But I have to thank one of the technicians. He reported the events to higher up." Niska waved his hand. "I of course gave him … appropriate recompense for his trouble."

"You killed him?"

"Eventually. It did take him two days."

"Looks like there ain't no honour among psychos." Mal lifted his head. "You should just be glad you ain't dog kibble like your man Crow. Remember him? Big? Like to play with knives? He went through the engine like meat through a grinder. Took us a long time to be rid of the smell."

_Mal, don't._

He glanced at her, seeing her eyes on him, fear and anger in equal measure in those dark orbs. _Gotta keep him occupied, ai ren. Keep him away from you._

Niska tutted, unaware of the wordless conversation going on. "You will not make me angry." He laid his hand on Mal's shoulder, tapping gently, as if he was remonstrating with a child. "Is something everyone tried. Make me angry so you die quickly."

"Oh, I'm still intending it to be you the one doing the dying."

"Always the wit." He sighed. "But still not the real you. I think to find that, I have to use something new. Something special."

"You mean you've been using the old and inferior on me?"

Niska chuckled, probably, but it was like someone screwing down the lid on a coffin. "Of course. Just making you ready." He signalled to his torturer. "Look."

The man brought over a metal box, opening the lid so Mal could see.

"Dear God, no," Freya muttered, her face losing all its colour.

Even with the blood moving towards his head because of the slight incline, Mal knew he'd gone just as pale. Inside the box was a glove, a box with various switches and knobs, and a clear glass vial, about six inches long. Inside was a silver liquid which seemed to have a life of its own, moving like mercury, no edge, just all curve. Except it was deadlier than mercury, and took no prisoners.

Niska was delighted. "I see you recognise it."

Oh, he'd seen it all right. Seen it used once, during the war, or at least the results. "Thought that was illegal. Even out here."

"Is true. But is still available. For the right money. For a great deal of the right money."

"I'm flattered."

"Don't be. I would have paid anything to procure this, just for you." If there could be satisfaction in that artificial voice, his lips would have been dripping with it.

"'N' I didn't think you cared."

"Still the wit." He glanced at the other man. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "Let us see if you can keep that sense of humour, yes?" He stepped to one side, far enough back not to be contaminated, but close enough to see.

"No, don't." Freya was frantic. She could see the image in Mal's mind of the man before, an Independent soldier who'd fallen foul of Alliance fanatics, of how they'd come on his body, newly dead, split open like a ripe melon, all his internal organs pulverised into mush. "Please. Don't. Do what you like with me, just … don't." She was pleading.

"Your turn soon," Niska promised, and nodded to his companion.

The torturer opened the vial and tipped the silver monstrosity onto Mal's belly, watching as it ran between the hairs from the dip below his diaphragm to settle at the base of his ribs. It spread out, becoming wafer thin, attracted by the warmth, then slid between the molecules of skin.

He screamed, his body twisting on the table, Freya echoing as the agony pulsed through her too.

Niska smiled, his fingers pressed together in front of his chin.


	14. Chapter 14

River whimpered as she headed into the galley. "No time to plan," she said, staring at the large amount of weaponry onto the table and trying to ignore the tendrils of pain seeping into her bones. "Time is gone. Passed. Now only time is to save."

"Moonbrain?" Jayne asked gently.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes huge. "Hurting. Need to save."

He understood. He always understood her now, and he briefly put his arm around her. Her surrogate parents, her best friend … it made her control on her ability to talk coherently a little sloppy. He squeezed tenderly before picking up his grenades strap and shrugging awkwardly into it.

Zoe looked at River then at the ex-mercenary. "Bad?"

"Yep." Jayne didn't need to elaborate.

"Then we go in." Dillon picked up one of the handguns and expertly checked the ammo clip.

"They'll be expecting us," Zoe said, impressed by his ease.

"Yeah, but that's the point," Jayne growled, attempting to fix the small explosives across his chest using the only two fingers on each hand still nominally working, all the while biting back on the pain surging up his arms. "They know we'd be stupid to do it, so they won't be ready for it."

"That's convoluted logic, my friend," Dillon pointed out.

"Don't care what kinda logic it is. Just common sense." He fumbled, and one of the grenades fell towards the floor. There was a collective holding of breath, waiting to see if it went off. Then River's hand was there, catching it just before it hit the deck. "Thanks, moonbrain," he whispered as everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome." She finished for him, making sure they were all the right way round, and ready to pull.

"You can't go." This was Simon.

"What?" The big man whirled on him. "You tellin' me I can't –"

"You can hardly hold a gun, let alone fire it."

Jayne glared at him. "I'll pull the rutting trigger with my teeth if I have to. Just dose me up enough."

Simon was about to argue, but Zoe interrupted. "Doctor. We need him."

"Why, you got a plan?" Hank paused in the act of strapping on a gunbelt. He hated the damn things with a vengeance, but he wasn't about to let his Zoe walk into the jaws of hell without him.

"I think I might."

River nodded. "Good plan."

"Would you care to enlighten the rest of us?" Simon had given up trying to make anyone be sensible, and just picked up one of the guns himself.

"We're going in the front door."

* * *

Kaylee had got through the engine parts, and had started on describing some of her mother's recipes. "… and then you add the whisky."

_That's what it was? I always wondered. Now go on, cupcake._

Cupcake? She mentally shrugged. "Then you put the batter …"

* * *

"He'll be expecting that too." Simon wasn't really complaining this time, merely pointing out the obvious.

"He won't be expecting me." River slid her gun home.

"_Mei-mei_ –" Now he was complaining. "You can't possibly be suggesting you go in alone."

"Not that way. Boob."

"River –"

"Just trust me." She gazed at him, and for once he could feel her in his mind, the words repeating as clear as if she'd spoken them aloud.

Finally he blinked. "Okay. Just don't get yourself killed, or I'll never forgive you. And neither will Mal."

"Nor me," Jayne agreed.

"I will try not to, for my husband, my brother and my captain. Although not necessarily in that order." She smiled briefly, then picked up a rifle.

"Specially since I'm going with you."

She shook her head. "No, Jayne. Not this time." She touched the splints on his hands. "Need quicker fingers."

"Riv -"

"No time to argue. Have to get there." She shook her head again partly in emphasis and partly to clear the images of pain behind her eyes. "Need a shuttle, but not one they might see and recognise."

"I'll do it," Alex said unexpectedly.

Zoe looked at him. "No offence, but you have no idea what you're walking into."

"She's my sister." It was all he needed to say.

River handed him a gunbelt. "Watch my back."

He swallowed. "I will."

She looked at him. "Can you swim?" she asked.

"Why would I …" His voice faded away as he realised she was quite serious.

* * *

"Is painful, yes?" Niska asked, watching the contortions of Mal's face as he tried to adjust to the feeling of something inside him. The agony had died back, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it became unbearable and killed him.

Freya was crying, unable to hold it under control, trying to get to him and tearing her wrists even more. Blood was running down her hands.

"Nothing I can't take," Mal managed to gasp out, more for her than anything. "Had worse. Did I ever tell you about the time someone ran me through with a sword? Not the first time, but the second. Right the way through. You talk about pain? You should try someone sticking a sword through your guts, then having to pull it out yourself." He smiled, although it was more like a grimace. "No, please. I'll help."

Niska ignored the banter. "Continue," he ordered.

The torturer lifted the glove from the box, sliding his hand carefully inside. There were sensors affixed to each of the tips of the fingers, and flexible metal strips ran down every surface. It looked like something a knight in armour might wear, but this was no honourable man, and the age of chivalry was long gone from this room.

He flicked a switch on the device inside the box, and a holographic image of a man's torso appeared in mid-air. The skin was almost transparent, as was the skeletal structure, but this merely put the internal organs into high relief, all bright reds and blues. The picture jumped, then stabilised, filling the room with a slight hum. Glancing once at Niska, and receiving a nod in return, he reached forward …

"Wait, wait," Mal said, trying hard to breathe, at the same time as attempting in vain not to visualise the silver skin coating his insides. "You never did answer my question."

"Did you ask one?"

"How come they turned you back? Alliance. How come they used their AntiPax on you?"

Niska's eyes narrowed. "You know of this?"

Mal would've shrugged if he could have moved. "Doesn't everyone?"

"No, Mr Reynolds. They do not. And I am curious as to how you found out."

"Heard it around."

"You will tell me," Niska said with certainty. "And I will tell them. In recompense. The Alliance saved me because I am useful. So very useful."

"No. I'm sure it was easier than that. They wanted a guinea pig and you were around."

"Perhaps a test, yes. But I was saved. My life spared."

"All hail the great Alliance."

"Just so. And they put me back together again." He skimmed his fingers across the skin graft on his cheek.

"Regular Humpty Dumpty." Mal could see the torturer beginning to get restless, moving slightly from side to side on the balls of his feet. "Pity they didn't unscramble your brain."

Niska sighed, like the breath of a dying man. "You want to know?"

"Let's just say it'd scratch the itch of my curiosity."

"I was Reaver. Knew their rage. Understood it. But they brought me back with the AntiPax. Yet I still remember." The old man smiled as much as he was able. "There is beauty in that, no? A … symmetry." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim lacquered box. "I carry it with me, as a reminder." He opened the lid, showing a single hypo and an ampoule of bright red liquid, the colour of fresh blood.

"That's it?"

"AntiPax. I can walk amongst people and know I have gift of life." He closed the lid and slid it back into his jacket.

"Yet you like killing folks."

"Is point. I will never use it to help anyone." Niska glanced at his man. "But I digress. And you have appointment." He nodded. "You know what is called? This liquid?"

Mal swallowed. "Quicksilver. Always thought it wasn't exactly appropriate."

Niska laughed, the sound grating from his voice box. "No. And I intend it to be slow. Very slow. Very painful." He leaned forward, his face barely inches from Mal's. "Are you ready?"

"Well, I got other things I got planned to do today -" Suddenly he couldn't breathe, his lungs gripped in a vice as pain filled his chest.

Freya choked back a scream. She'd seen the torturer reach into the hologram and wrap his gloved hand around the image of Mal's heart, and squeeze.

"Yes," Niska said. "The real you. Soon."

* * *

Alex looked out of the window of the small shuttle at the tiny phosphorescent creatures being pushed out of the way as they moved through the water. "I thought nothing could live in these oceans," he said quietly.

"Life is tenacious," River replied, then shrugged. "I'm not always right."

"Only mostly?"

"Of course." She checked the co-ordinates. "We're here."

Alex cut the engines and felt the shuttle begin to sink to the bottom. After a few moments there was a shudder through the small craft. "Okay," he said, making the word a heavy sigh.

River crossed to the door. "Are you ready?"

"No," he admitted. "But it's my sister."

She smiled briefly. "The nature of the water means we will float to the surface quickly. Just remember to exhale on the way up."

"I'll try."

"I'm sorry about your shuttle."

He shrugged. "Like I said, it's my sister. No contest, as far as I'm concerned."

"Then it's time." Using the over-ride command, she opened the door, allowing a spurt of water to enter around the seal, quickly filling the shuttle ankle deep.

Alex was surprised to realise it wasn't really cold, but all thoughts of the water's temperature evaporated as he saw River taking deep lungfuls of air, flushing her system with as much oxygen as possible. Swallowing hard, he did the same.

* * *

"I've not been sick." Kaylee lay on the floor, still in the same position, but had interrupted herself.

_What?_

"I ain't thrown up." She slowly reached a hand down and touched her belly. "Hadn't thought about it, but …" Her heart started to beat faster. "What if something's wrong with the baby?"

_You're pregnant?_

"Of course I am." She narrowed her eyes. "How come you don't know that?"

_Don't get your panties in a bundle, sweetpea. I'm just taking a while to catch up._

An impression of a bright, Hawaiian shirt and blond hair swam through her mind. "Wash?"

_Nobody here by that name. No sirree. Just us inner demons trying to keep you going._

"Does that mean I'm dying?"

_No. No, no and no. Don't you go thinking like that, Kaylee. There's plenty more years to come for you and the doc, let alone all the kids you're gonna have. _

"What would you know? You ain't even real."

_Real enough, pumpkin. Come on. You were telling me about those chocolate chip cookies. How come the chocolate don't run out?_

Outside the door the men looked at each other, listening to the one-sided conversation.

"Do you think she's crazy?"

"I'm beginning to wonder. How much did you give her?"

"Same as usual."

"Well, it don't matter much. He said we can have her when he's ready, and it won't matter if she's insane then."

* * *

It felt like he was having a heart attack. The pain had spread across his chest and down his arms, and he knew the Quicksilver was stopping the muscles functioning. He also knew that all it would take was a harder squeeze on the glove and his heart would collapse.

"Enough." The agony in Mal's chest lessened, and Niska moved closer. "Life and death, Mr Reynolds." The light reflected off his spectacles, making it impossible to see the eyes beneath. "Which will you beg for? To be spared, or to die?"

"I haven't … haven't made up my mind yet," Mal managed to grind out. "Ain't there a third choice?"

"Perhaps." Niska glanced at Freya, her body slick with cold sweat. "I have a second Quicksilver. Perhaps I use it on your wife, play a symphony in both your bodies. Will you beg to die so she may live?"

The answer was immediate, no hesitation. "Yes."

One of the old man's eyebrows raised just a millimetre, the scar above it stopping further movement. "You love her so much."

"Walked in here for her, didn't I?"

"Such devotion."

"Something I doubt you're capable of feeling." Mal gathered himself. "You know, I've a notion your wife took one look at you now and ran screaming for the hills. Am I right?" He turned his head so he could look around the room as best he could. "Or is she watching from some place? Is that it? Does she get her jollys watching you tear the guts out of people? She getting hot just knowing what you do?"

In response Niska clicked his fingers, and the torturer adjusted a dial on the box. Suddenly Mal's heart was racing, the beats so close together as to be indistinguishable, and he knew any second it was going to rupture, exploding from his chest in a messy fountain. Niska gestured once more and the frantic pace slowed.

"Days, Mr Reynolds. Days. And not just this. I think you will beg to die when I finally remove your fingers." He smiled. "Yes?"

* * *

"Zoe …" Hank was almost wriggling in his seat.

"Not yet."

"But we -"

"You heard her, little man," Jayne growled like a bear from the back of the bridge. "Not 'til River says."

For a few moments Hank didn't say anything else, but he finally broke the silence. "You sure the kids are safe?"

"They're on Alex's ship. If anything happens …"

"Inara."

Zoe nodded.

"She'd be good to 'em."

"Hank, I'm intending to see Ben again."

"Yeah. Me too." He looked up into her eyes. "But just in case … I …"

"I know."

"'Cept I can't just sit here and -"

"Yes you can," Zoe said quietly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Soon, honey. Real soon."

Dillon checked his ammo clip once more.

* * *

River's head broke surface, followed swiftly by Alex, spluttering a little at the brackish taste of the water. He was surprised to find it was fully dark, with a sprinkling of stars overhead cut off by the looming bulk of the Denari class yacht.

The young woman waited for him to catch his breath, then pointed to a set of rungs fixed into the bulkhead in front of them. He nodded, and they started to ascend towards a doorway set flush into the wall, just visible in the gloom.

* * *

Jayne's head went up. "They're in."

Zoe squeezed Hank's shoulder. "Let's go."

He didn't need a second telling to fire up Serenity's engines and lift her up into the night sky.


	15. Chapter 15

Alex peered around the corner, feeling his wet clothes sticking to his back and riding up in places they had no right to be riding up in. "I can't see anyone. Doesn't mean they're not about," he whispered.

"Close," she agreed, slipping past him, her form clearly outlined in her damp dress. "And you shouldn't be looking."

"A man who's about to die should have some pleasures in the short remainder of his life."

"Not going to die." River's voice was barely above a breath. "As long as you stay quiet." She seemed to glide on silent feet, already bringing one of her guns up as the door opened along the corridor.

A man stepped out. "What the –" He drew, very fast.

There was a pop, barely loud enough to register, but he fell back, his weapon dropping from nerveless fingers.

"This way," River said, moving forward and delicately avoiding the spreading pool of blood, a drift of smoke meandering from the silencer.

Alex stepped over the body of the guard, and he had to swallow hard not to throw up. "Right."

"It's just a body," she pointed out.

"I ... I know." _A body without a face_, his treacherous inner voice added.

"He'd killed so many."

Alex looked up in surprise. "You know that?"

She nodded, not taking her gaze off the corridor in front. "Niska surrounds himself with such men. They kill without thought, without hesitation or remorse." Now she looked at him, her dark eyes unreadable. "And they enjoy it."

He shuddered, then took a deep breath. "Then we'd better go get my sister and her husband, hadn't we?"

A smile ghosted across her lips. "You know, we're related." She moved off.

"What?" He hurried to catch up.

"Freya is my mother. So you must be my uncle."

"She's your ... what?"

"In spiritual terms."

He looked at the young woman at his side, and realised she wasn't joking. "Then ..." he began slowly, "maybe I am. And I'm proud to be."

The smile widened into brilliance and she was about to speak, but it froze on her face.

"What –"

She touched his lips then held up two fingers. Two more guards, she was saying.

Alex tried to control his heart pounding in his chest, and nodded.

* * *

Hank brought Serenity in low, skimming the wavetops as the Firefly sped forward. He was flying by instruments, not even looking out of the window, but he trusted them totally, and as they approached the yacht he spoke into the open com.

"Get ready. Landing in five …" He initiated the retros, drastically reducing their speed. "… four …" Serenity dropped lower, and the drag from the water slowed her even more. "… three …" He swung her around, eyes fixed to the sensors. "… two …" She was almost in position, her belly just a few feet above the sand. "… one …" The old ship nestled close to the new, within kissing distance. "We're down!"

Dillon slammed his hand down on the outer cargo bay door controls, the ramp falling with a thud. Immediately Zoe activated the remote she and River had cobbled together. Tiny lights scrambled across its surface, and after only a few seconds the main airlock on the Denari began to open. Inside red lights began to spin, and a voice issued from speakers.

"_Unauthorised access. Warning. Unauthorised access. Warning. Unauthorised –"_

"I think they know we're here," Dillon muttered.

"That's the general idea."

Dark figures could be seen milling further back in the yacht's shuttle bay, and someone seemed to be trying to close the doors, but every time it appeared to be working the remote caught up a moment later. Finally someone fired, the bullet ricocheting into the night from Serenity's hull.

Zoe glanced at the men next to her, hunkered down behind the crates they'd lined up as cover inside the airlock. Even in the darkness she could see Jayne's teeth as he grinned, a maniacal look in his eye. Briefly she wondered if Simon hadn't overmedicated the big man, but she realised it didn't matter. He was here, and he was going to stay here until River was back on board, preferably with the others.

A gun fired close by, six shots, close together. In the Denari a man fell, making the others scuttle for cover.

"Like you said," Dillon commented, reloading. "They're supposed to know we're here."

* * *

Niska heard the faint alarm bells, then booted feet running past the closed door. He looked at the guard. "Find out," he commanded.

"Sir." He slipped out.

"You got company?" Mal asked, experiencing a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Is no matter. My men are good." He turned back to his torturer. "Continue."

Mal gritted his teeth.

* * *

Alex couldn't help but admire the young woman with him. She seemed so ethereal, so other-worldly, but the way she handled her guns meant she was deadly. They'd met less resistance since the alarms had sounded, almost giving him a heart attack until she had smiled at him. That was the plan, he knew, but it still didn't actually help.

Besides, it was less resistance, but that certainly didn't mean _no_ resistance.

As they both came around the corner there were two men dragging rifles up to bear on them, and she dropped into a crouch to fire. Except in doing so she missed the door opening behind them, and a third man sliding out. Alex caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and half turned, almost hearing the slack being taken out of the trigger.

"River!" He threw himself backward without thinking, between the gunman and her body, as the sound of the gun firing filled the corridor. He could almost see the bullet heading straight towards him.

But as fast as he was, she was faster. Even as he was moving, so was she, twisting on her heel, her hand coming up to push him down, crouching forward herself to protect him, the passage of the bullet lifting the hair on her head. She fired, and the gunman fell back gurgling, his life blood arcing from a mutilated throat.

She looked down at Alex, and for just a moment saw another face, younger, with just the suggestion of a grey collar about his neck.

"Jethro," she breathed.

"Who?" Alex struggled to push himself up, and the apparition vanished.

"Someone I knew once," she replied, a smile breaking out. "Someone I couldn't save." She stood upright and held out a hand.

Letting her help him to his feet, he said fervently, "Well, I'm glad you saved me." He squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

A grin, so joyful it heated his skin, flashed across her face. "You're welcome." Then she was all seriousness again, apart from the renewed determination in her eyes. "Let's go bring them home. Kaylee first."

* * *

The men outside the cell door looked at each other. Someone had screamed, a long drawn out wail that ended in a sort of choking cough. "What the hell was that?"

The taller of the two gave his companion a withering look. "What do you think it was?"

"Do you think we shouldn't at least go and help?"

"If the boss's men can't handle it, what do you think we can do? Besides, we were told to stand guard."

"What, you think she's going to try and escape? Look at her, man! She can't even get up."

"I'm obeying orders."

"They might only need another couple of guns."

"Fine. You go. I'll wait here. And when the boss says she's ours, it seems like I'll get first go." He glanced into the cell through the tiny window. "Anyway, I'm thinking if things go wrong we can use her. As a bargaining chip."

"Are you crazy?"

"Who else do you think they're coming after?"

The sound of automatic weapons fire drifted up.

"They need our help!"

"I'm not stopping you."

He glared up into the other man's face, then drew his gun, flicking the safety off. Sneering slightly in disgust he headed down the corridor.

The taller man grinned and put his hand on the entry pad. "That's better. Now it's just you and me, darlin'." He opened the door.

Kaylee blinked at the sudden light, then realised someone was standing looking at her. She tried to pull the coveralls up further over her body, but her hands had stopped working properly again, and all she managed to do was push them away.

There was a low laugh, and it skittered up her spine like ice water.

"What the boss don't know …" He advanced into the room, hands busy unbuckling his belt.

Kaylee whimpered.

_Hold on, honey. Cavalry's coming._

The man was only two feet away when a sound like an explosion ripped through the cell and he jerked to a standstill. For what seemed like an eternity he didn't move, then blood bubbled from his mouth as he tried to speak. He fell as if his legs had been cut out from under him, his head very close to Kaylee's feet.

"It's okay." Another man, and Kaylee wanted to scrabble away. "Kaylee, it's okay. It's me. Alex. Freya's brother."

"Frey …" she managed to say between teeth chattering with fear.

He knelt down next to her, trying to ignore the body as he pulled her towards him. "It's a rescue," he said, somewhat unnecessarily.

Alex had killed before. There was the time he was visiting one of the remoter Rostov holdings on Osiris, up in the mountains, where they were mining Odonerite. Someone decided he would be worth kidnapping, and tried to take him off the road. His driver had been shot, and he'd scooped up the gun and fired back, killing at least one of the raiders. It didn't help.

As he lifted her onto his thighs, she was pushing at him. "Kaylee, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Kaylee, please."

She peered up at him, trying to place him. He looked so familiar, but it was hard to think anymore.

"Here." River, keeping watch from the doorway, tossed a hypo to him. "The antihistamine. It will help."

He nodded, injecting Kaylee in the arm.

She whimpered a little at the sting.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I had to."

River glanced into the room. "Bring her when she's feeling better. I need to go. Now." She slid away, her guns ready.

"No," Kaylee managed to say, feeling some of the fog clear away from her mind. "You … go with her."

Alex shook his head. "She told me to stay with you. And I'm not about to argue with that young woman."

"And I'm tellin' … you to go." She struggled to raise herself onto her elbows but didn't manage it. "Needs your help." Her words, while still slurred, were strengthening.

"I'm not leaving you, Kaylee."

She fixed him with her brown eyes. "Then you're gonna … have to carry me."

* * *

"Sir, we're being attacked."

"Who?"

"Looks like a Firefly, sir."

Niska turned, looking down at the man strapped to the bench. "Your friends don't obey you."

Mal ran his tongue across his dry lips, tasting sweat and blood. "Never ... never did. Can't see why ... they should start now."

* * *

"This ain't going well," Jayne said, ducking back down below the line of crates. "And Mal ain't gonna be pleased they're shooting up his boat."

"As long as we get them out –" Zoe paused to fire Jayne's precious Callahan, and one of Niska's men fell back with a cry. "– I don't think he'll mind too much." Again the rifle spat, and someone keened. "How are they doing?"

"Good. Got Kaylee. Going for Mal and Frey." He sounded annoyed, wanting to be in the thick of things and not even able to do much more than watch Zoe shooting with Vera.

She couldn't help the slight smile as she glanced at him, then at his hands. "Can you use a grenade?"

That was better. He grinned. "Where do you want it?"

* * *

There was a dull thud, and the ship shuddered a little.

"Get them. Bring them to me," Niska ordered. "I think I would like to see Mr Reynold's face when they die in front of him."

"Ain't gonna happen," Mal grunted. He looked past the old man towards Freya and saw the corners of her mouth twitch so quickly that he wondered if he'd imagined it.

The flunkey hurried out of the room.

"So much to look forward to. And all because your crew are … what is the word. Mutinous?"

"Like I said, they never did like obeying orders. But it ain't mutiny."

"Then what would you call it?"

"A diversion." River fired a split after her words and the torturer's head exploded into blood, bone and grey matter, his hand opening reflexively as the glove flew into the corner of the room. She advanced on Niska, her aim not moving a micron from between his eyes.

"No," Mal gasped out, feeling the pressure growing slowly but inexorably in his chest. "You don't."

Her brow furrowed. "He hurt you."

"That he … he did. But you just … keep him there."

Freya, meanwhile, was struggling with her restraints, then saw her brother carry Kaylee into the room. "Alex! Get me out of these things!"

He nodded and placed the young woman in his arms on the floor, inadvertently coming face to face with the body, still oozing. He stared.

"Alex!"

He started guiltily, tearing his eyes away as he hurried to his sister's side, and managed to undo the cuffs. "Frey …" he murmured, his breath catching at the sight of her wrists, torn and bleeding.

She ignored him, stumbling to the corner and picking up the glove. Sliding it onto blood-slicked fingers, she hurried to the hologram, lifting her hand and releasing the tension. Immediately Mal felt the pressure ease, and he could breathe easier.

"_Ai ren_ …"

"This will hurt," she whispered, concentrating on the control box.

"I know."

She looked up and saw such love and trust in his eyes that she almost lost herself. Pulling back, she flicked a switch.

Mal couldn't help it. His back lifted from the bench as he screamed, the Quicksilver flowing back to his skin, appearing on the surface first as a sheen like sweat, then thicker, more substantial, as it gathered in a pool at his belly.

Blinking back tears as she felt his pain, Freya picked up the vial, her hand trembling slightly as she held it against his body. She gestured with the glove. The liquid moved as if it were alive, tendrils reaching into the glass until it sat inside, glistening malevolently.

Alex stoppered it quickly, taking it from her and placing it back in the box.

Only then did Freya dare to breathe, stripping the glove from her hand and dropping it to the ground. Her knees gave, and she would have fallen but for Alex's arm around her. "No," she said, pushing at him. "Help Mal."

"Cap'n?" Kaylee asked from her position on the floor, clutching her coveralls to herself.

"It's okay, _mei-mei_," Mal said as Alex undid the restraints. "I'm gonna be fine. What about you?"

"Oh, shiny. Soon as my bits start working again."

"Too much information there, Kaylee." He groaned as Alex got him into a sitting position.

"I can't carry you both," Freya's brother said.

"Not being carried out of here, Alex," Mal said, patting him somewhat awkwardly on the arm. "Didn't intend to do it dead, and I sure as hell ain't planning on doing it alive." He slid off the bench to his feet, honestly surprised that he could stand almost upright. _Adrenaline, that's what it is_, he told himself. _Or some other fancy such name Simon'd give it. Gonna be hard when that gives out._

_I'll be here_. Freya's voice touched his mind.

_I know._ He didn't look at her, didn't need to, just keeping all his attention on the man cowering against the wall. Half turning his head, he said softly, "You stay back now, you hear? This ain't your fight."

River glared at him, the words building up behind her lips, but she didn't say them. Instead she whispered, "I already killed him. Your turn."


	16. Chapter 16

His grey silk suit was stained with sudden icy sweat, and he was trying to back up even further as Mal advanced.

"Still not afraid?" Mal asked, deceptively quiet.

"Guards!" Niska's artificial voice was loud, abrupt, ringing around the torture room, but no-one came.

"They're busy," River said, watching out of the door. There was another dull thud of a grenade, and the floor shivered. "Very busy." She smiled, feeling the satisfaction from Jayne as he blew a couple more holes in the yacht.

Freya was busy too, searching the nooks and crannies, and she pounced on her own clothes, noting her gun underneath. Quickly she tugged her pants on and pushed her feet into her boots. The shirt was more problematical, catching on the mess of her wrists, but she ignored the aching and left it open. With a suppressed groan she picked up the weaponry and tried to stop the 'verse from spinning around inside her head.

Alex took a step towards her. "Frey?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. She looked at her husband, still staring at Niska. "Mal, we need to go."

"Not done here, _xin gan_."

"Mal …"

"He was gonna kill you, Frey. No if's or maybe's, but an undeniable fact."

"I know." It surprised her still that, even though he was standing there bleeding from so many points, had been so close to death as to be able to shake its hand, it was the danger to her that drove him. "I know, _zhang fu._"

He glanced at her. "Can't let him get away with that."

As his attention seemed to be split, Niska tried to dart past Mal, but the captain reached out, grabbing hold of his jacket and throwing him against the bulkhead.

"Tryin' to leave so soon?" he asked, leaning into the old man. "And just when we were gettin' reacquainted."

"Please…" The artificial voice held little emotion, but it was there in his eyes, darting from one to the other. "I … I was just …" Pleading. Begging.

Mercy.

"Just what? Obeying orders?"

"I … cannot help what I am."

"A murdering psychopath with friends in high places?" Mal leaned harder then paused. He could feel something hard under his hands, and a cold smile thinned his lips. "Talking of which …" He reached inside Niska's jacket and removed the box containing the AntiPax. "River, you take care'o this."

"Yes, Mal," she said, slipping it somewhere inside her dress and moving back to the door.

"Now, me and Niska here are gonna have a chat."

"Mal …" Freya was actually beginning to get annoyed with him.

"Just a little one." He settled himself. "So, Ad … can I call you Ad? Only I feel like I know you now." He appeared to study the scars and grafts. "Kinda like we're old pals. And it's only for that reason I'm giving you this one last chance to tell me something that might persuade me not to kill you."

"What?" Alex jerked his head around so fast it hurt his neck. "You're going to –"

Freya put her hand on his, stopping him mid-sentence.

Niska didn't see. He was concentrating so hard on the man in front of him, trying to think of something … anything that might buy his life. "_Kontrola_."

"What?"

The old man licked his lips. "Control. Is about control. Not just ability to turn back Reavers, but control them. Use them."

"Who?"

"Alliance. Using brainwaves."

Mal glanced at Freya, who looked more than a little sick at the thought of anyone controlling the Reavers. They'd talked about it a lot since the attack on Corvus, but this was the first time there'd been any kind of proof. "Brainwaves." Mal turned back. "Whose?"

"I do not know. A girl. Not a name, just a subject number. 395MT."

"A psychic?"

"Yes." Niska was feeling stronger, a thread of confidence building inside him. "Yes. A psychic. The Alliance are experimenting with her, seeing if control can be maintained for long periods. Is improving."

"How long? How long've they been trying?"

"Several years. She is, of course, insane, but that could not be helped." The metallic voice sounded hopeful. "I tried to get her, to get direct access for experiments with Reduced Pax, but they refused."

"They probably didn't want her filleted," Mal muttered darkly.

A little spittle rolled from Niska's mouth, and he wiped it away with a tremulous hand. "Is what I was paid to do."

"Yeah, but a man shouldn't enjoy his job that much." He exhaled heavily. "So who was in charge of this project?"

"Quintana. Emil Quintana. At first. Later …" Niska shrugged as much as he could being held against the wall.

The name meant nothing to Mal, but maybe Simon would be able to help in that department. "Anything else you figure I should know about?"

"I know many things." Niska was almost eager now. "Many things people have told me." He either didn't notice or ignored the tightening of the skin around Mal's eyes. "Information that might be useful to you. In my business I hear many secrets, and if you let me go I can –"

"Did I say I was going to?" Serenity's captain reached up and grabbed the voice box. "And you know, this is really starting to piss me off."

He tugged hard, and Niska screamed, the sound changing to a bubbling as blood began to run down his neck, spurting from under the metal. Mal glanced at River as he let go, taking a step away to avoid being sprayed.

"No vocal cords left. Attached to his flesh, through the arteries, directly to his brain," she said, not a flicker of disgust on her face.

He watched the old man slide to the floor, hands scrabbling at the device, trying to push it back, stem the flow, and only succeeding in diverting it into his lungs, drowning himself.

Suddenly Mal had had enough. He held his hand out, and Freya put the pistol in it. He aimed and fired in one smooth movement, the smell of burned gunpowder overcoming the scent of blood.

Niska fell back, a hole neatly drilled between his eyes, just above the nosepiece of his glasses.

"Is he dead?" Alex asked.

"Yes." Mal breathed out, long and slow. "And I've a notion he ain't coming back this time."

"Then I think we should leave."

"Something we have to do first."

Alex looked down at the body. "What the hell else is there?"

Mal smiled tiredly. "Putting a stop to this."

He leaned down to pull Niska's body away from the wall, and had to steady himself with a hand against the bulkhead.

"Mal …" Now the annoyance in Freya's voice was on full.

He glanced at her. "If'n you're gonna point out I'm not at my best right now, I'd rather you didn't."

"It depends on what you're going to do." She paused. "Oh. Well, no, I think maybe we can just about manage that."

"Let me help," Alex insisted.

"No." Mal shook his head firmly. "You're seeing to Kaylee."

"I can walk," the young mechanic put in.

"That I doubt."

"I wanna walk out of here, Mal." She knew using his given name would have the right effect. Besides, he would know exactly what she meant, echoing back his own words of just a few minutes previously.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I'll look after her," Freya said, bending forward to help Kaylee get to her feet.

"You know you're hurt too, and maybe you shouldn't –"

"Mal, you finish that sentence and you'll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future."

Mal leaned down and grabbed the dead man's ankle. "Just so long as you don't come crying to me when you're needing a massage tonight."

Alex looked from one to the other, amazed that they could be bickering right now, but he heard River sigh. "It's what they do," he heard her murmur.

"And I can manage Niska on my own," Mal said firmly.

"You're hurt. Let me help," Alex repeated, stepping forwards.

Mal was going to say no, this was nothing to do with him, but he saw the look in his eyes. The man had grown up somewhere along the line. "Okay."

"Thank you." Alex nodded and took hold of Niska's other ankle, between them dragging him towards the sound of fighting, River on point, her guns at the ready.

"Who's winning, albatross?" Mal asked, stabbing pains radiating across his chest and ignoring the looks Freya kept throwing him as she helped Kaylee stagger forwards.

"Stalemate," the young woman said, eyes never still, searching for any danger that they might come across. "The family have made it to the entrance, but not inside. Although Jayne still has some grenades left."

"That man. You sure he don't love grenades more'n you?"

River shook her head. "Vera, perhaps. Grenades, no."

Freya made them pause at the top doorway to the yacht's shuttle bay. "No-one's hurt particularly, but it isn't going to stay that way," she said quietly.

"Then let's make an entrance."

She read what he planned in his mind, and nodded, leaning Kaylee against the wall so she could grab the old man's wrist. Alex, understanding more than he would admit, took a firmer hold as River immediately caught hold of Niska's other arm. They lifted him up to rest on the railing.

"Ready?" Alex asked.

"Oh, yeah." Mal pushed the body over, seeing it tumble as it fell to land on the deck, pale eyes looking small as they stared blankly into the superstructure, spectacles lost somewhere on the way. "It's done," he called into the sudden silence. "Niska's dead."

"Um … so?" one of the black-clad men said.

Mal couldn't help it. He laughed, making his chest hurt like hell. Eventually he was able to respond. "Well, seems to me like you got a coupla choices. You can keep on fighting, and some of you are gonna die. Maybe all of you. But say you win. You kill us, which is by no means a foregone conclusion since we're behind you as well. You ain't gonna get paid. Niska's dead, as you can see by his soon to be mouldering corpse there. He ain't gonna be getting up and dancing. The other option is that you let us leave. Then nobody else gets hurt, you can ransack this place and steal anything that ain't nailed down. Take the whole damn thing for all I care. I just want me and mine home." He took a shallow breath. "I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to decide, then I'm gonna let my man down there loose with all the grenades he's got. It's up to you." He started to count. "One, two, three –"

"Is he serious?" Dillon asked Zoe, then saw River up on the walkway, nodding slowly.

"He is," the first mate said anyway. "There's been enough blood letting for one day."

A muffled conversation indicated the men in black were also talking, and just as Mal got to nine one of them called out.

"Okay. We're none of us so enamoured of our boss that we're willing to die in his honour."

Mal smiled. "Good. Now you boys just back up, let us out. We ain't gonna take your guns from you, but then neither are we stupid enough to give you ours. So we're just gonna do this nice and easy." He stepped forward and would have fallen but for Freya at his, taking his weight. "I can walk," he protested, but not that loudly.

"Humour her," Alex said, Kaylee propped up in his arms. "I'm beginning to realise it's easier in the end."

"Do I have a choice?"

Freya, concerned at the blood starting to ooze more freely from the wounds on his chest, held tighter. "None whatsoever."

"Fine. Just so long as I know."

She helped him down the stairs, Alex and Kaylee next, River behind them, her guns in her hands, still ready for anything that might happen, and knowing it wasn't going to. Not now.

"Sir?" Zoe stood up warily as he approached them.

"Time to go," he said, his face almost white.

"Infirmary," Simon ordered, desperately wanting to carry his wife himself, but knowing they had to get away from this yacht first. "All of you."

"You know, this time, I don't think I'm gonna argue."

* * *

Hank had Serenity away from the Denari in the blink of an eye, landing back by Alex's ship so they could make any repairs needed before heading back into the black. Simon checked Kaylee over first, very thoroughly, against her protests that she was fine and so was the baby. It was only when she'd threatened to divorce him and run away with their pilot that he'd been persuaded to reluctantly deal with the others, starting with Mal. Actually, the gun Freya pulled on him in frustration might well have had something to do with it.

So he'd patched and stitched everyone up, insisting Mal stay in the infirmary so he could take as many scans of his internal organs as he could. Finally the captain declared he'd had enough of being a prize specimen and walked, albeit unsteadily, out of the cool room.

The young doctor had followed him. "I don't know what that Quicksilver liquid did," he tried to explain. "I have no idea the kind of long-term damage it may have inflicted."

"Well, if I fall down dead anytime soon, you have my permission to do an autopsy," Mal said, heading for his bunk.

Simon turned to Freya, who was watching from the common area. "Can't you talk any sense into him?"

"I haven't been able to so far, and we've been married a while."

"I mean –"

"I know." She put her hand on his arm, her wrists bandaged. "I'll keep an eye on him, Simon. If anything … feels wrong, you'll be the first to know."

"Hmmn."

"Don't you believe me?"

"I know you." He turned and headed back into his domain, muttering under his breath.

Freya smiled and strolled into the cargo bay, not surprised to find Dillon already there, sitting on Jayne's weights bench with the man himself, enjoying a cigar. "I thought I could smell something like old socks," she sighed.

"They're not that bad." Dillon took a lungful of smoke, then exhaled it in a cloud to hang bluely in the air.

"Just be glad we're still on the ground and can have the doors open. Otherwise there's a lot of people on this boat who'd be throwing up."

Dillon laughed. "How are the repairs going?"

She shrugged. "As the only currently able-bodied crew Hank and Zoe seem to be doing okay. Simon won't move far from Kaylee's side while Alex is helping – or hindering – where he can, as he seems to need something to do. Unlike some of you," she added pointedly. "But it shouldn't be too much longer, then you should be able to get back to Breed."

"Are you coming?"

"Nope." She leaned against a crate. "Somehow I don't think Persephone is going to be very good for us at the moment."

"Why? The Alliance don't know you were involved in Niska's death."

"As far as we know."

Jayne looked at her, his ice-blue eyes hooded. "Ya really think they might?"

"It's possible. I don't think they'd come after us for it – not with the enemies that man had – but Mal isn't likely to put us in any danger. At least, not until we've healed."

"Are you okay?" Dillon asked, glancing up at the weaves in her hairline. "I mean, you were hurt too."

She waved his concern away, as well as the cigar smoke. "I'm fine. Simon fixed me up, and I'll heal."

"That wasn't quite what I meant."

"I know." She smiled. "It was a little too close for comfort this time. If it happens again I'm going to shoot first and ask questions … well, never, actually."

Jayne guffawed. "That's my girl." He unfocused. "River needs me," he added, getting to his feet and carefully grinding out the cigar on the sole of his boot. "Save this for later." He strode up the stairs, three at a time.

"Is he really that devoted?" Dillon asked, watching the big man enter the shuttle and close the door.

"He is."

"Then she's very lucky."

"I think we all were." She sat down next to him, taking Jayne's place, and whisked the cigar from his fingers. She took a puff, blowing a perfect smoke ring.

"Mal know you indulge?" Dillon asked, trying to stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest.

"I don't," she insisted, handing it back. "Especially when it tastes like old socks too."

"Old socks," he repeated. "You have no taste."

"And if I have any more of that, it'll be permanent." She lifted a hand and delicately removed a fragment of tobacco leaf from her teeth just as Hank and Zoe headed up the open ramp.

"What is that smell?" Zoe asked, sniffing delicately.

Hank did the same, only less delicately. He grinned. "Peltas?"

Dillon was impressed. "You know your cigars."

"There's something recognisable about them."

"Socks?" Zoe suggested.

Freya turned triumphantly to Dillon. "See?"

He tutted and stood up. "I know when I'm not wanted," he said. "I shall go and finish this outside."

"Don't be too long," Zoe advised. "We're ready to go."

"What about Niska's ship?"

"Alex said it was gone when he and Simon went back to salvage his shuttle," Freya put in. "He also said there's a few more bodies than just Niska's littering the sand."

"They fight over it?" Hank asked, surprised.

"They're bad guys," Dillon explained. "That's what they do."


	17. Chapter 17

An hour later and Alex's ship was warmed over and ready to go, just waiting on its two most important passengers to shake it off and get back on board.

There was a curious reluctance to say goodbye, and even Dillon found himself giving in to a little procrastination.

"Is Kaylee really going to be okay?" he asked, glancing towards the lower crew quarters, where Simon was checking out his wife for the third time that day. He'd already leaned in and said his farewells, and putting his request to be godfather to that little one too.

"Simon's good," Mal said. "And he's her husband. He's not going to let anything happen to her, or that baby."

"Good. Tell him, if he needs anything, just to wave me."

"I will."

Dillon looked towards the cargo bay where Freya was saying goodbye to Alex. "I'd better get going, otherwise that man's likely to leave without me."

"Serves you right for being too tight to hire your own ship."

Dillon glared at him. "He was … convenient."

"More'n that. River says he saved her life."

"Then I really don't want to keep him waiting."

"I'd be beholden if you did. Just for a few minutes."

The older man was surprised by Mal's diffidence. "What is it?" he asked, allowing himself to be ushered to the seats in the common area. He waited until the captain had lowered himself, very carefully, into the armchair, sighing as parts of his body that he didn't even know existed complained. "What can I do for you, Mal?"

"Niska spoke of an Emil Quintana. Simon doesn't know anything about him, and there's not much on the Cortex. Feel like doing a little research?"

Dillon nodded slowly. "Sure. It's not a name I know either, but it's unusual enough. I see what I can find out."

"Thanks." But still Mal didn't seem to be finished.

"What?" The older man laughed. "It's not like you to be so reticent."

"We need a viral replicator."

Dillon's eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Niska might have been a psychopath and a sadist, but he was good for one thing. He gave us a sample of AntiPax."

"I know. I saw it." Light dawned. "And you want to make more."

"We don't know if it works on everyone, or what it'll do to some." He eased his back, grimacing slightly, allowing it to cover the flash of anxiety for his wife and children. "I'm just conscious of that recording of Alex's."

"Front line?"

"That's the one. If they _were_ talking about troops, I got a feeling they were trying to make a weapon, and if that's the case –"

"They'd have to be insane," Dillon interrupted, appalled.

"I thought we'd agreed they are." Mal smiled a little, barely a lift to the corner of his mouth.

"But who would they use it on? I mean, you fire into a crowd, it wouldn't just be those who laid down you'd have to deal with. You'd be in danger of turning some folks into …" He stopped, losing all the colour in his face.

"I figure you've just seen the same picture I have. If they could create some kinda delivery system that would keep the Pax to a specific area, you could take out any number of people. And if one, maybe two of 'em turned into Reavers, well, that'd be another form of crowd control, wouldn't it? Just a bit more permanent."

"Does the Pax have a … I don't know what to call it, but some kind of shelf life? Only effective for a few minutes or something?"

Mal shrugged, then wished he hadn't. "I don't know. Maybe it disperses easily, who knows? Thing is, if your men have doses of AntiPax, it doesn't matter how long it takes. They just go in and clean up."

Dillon sat back in his chair, his mind playing him an image of soldiers firing on a group of protestors, or maybe browncoats out in the borders, then maybe not even bothering to use the antidote. Like Mal said, a permanent solution. "You know, that just makes me feel all sorts of confident in our government."

Mal smiled. "Welcome to my world."

"No wonder Freya says you're paranoid."

"It ain't paranoia if they are out to get you." The smile softened. "And I'll be having words with my wife about her talking to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger, Mal."

"About as strange as they come, I'd say."

Dillon was about to argue, then he shrugged. "Actually, you're probably right." He glanced again towards the cargo bay. "You know he's not going home, don't you? Alex, I mean."

Mal nodded. "I figured as much. I think this's been something of a shock to his delicate system."

Dillon laughed. "That's your brother-in-law you're talking about."

"And he's had something of a crash course in how things work out here. Seeing his sis like that, what happened … it was gonna take him one of two ways. Either he'd run home with his tail 'tween his legs, or –"

"Or he's going to get involved."

"He's already that. I've got the notion he's going to one of those holdings he talked about, intent on doing some more digging."

"You think it's safe for him to do that?"

"Nope. But then nothing out here is, not right now."

"Maybe I should persuade him to stay with Breed and me. At least we can keep an eye on him."

"I'd take that as a kindness."

Dillon studied him. "You're not going to let this lie, are you?"

Mal didn't answer for a minute, just sat, his blue eyes staring into nothing. Then he took a deep breath. "Don't see how I can, Dillon. As much as my instinct is to take me and mine someplace far away, I ain't sure there's anywhere far enough no more."

"That's what I thought."

"You in?"

"I'm in."

"What about Breed?"

"If it isn't safe for you, out here, then I doubt Persephone's any better. Besides, he's never been a shrinking violet." Dillon considered a moment. "Another reason I should make Alex accept my company. It might be safer in numbers."

"So you're going to keep digging?"

"I've got my shovel ready."

"You know what we're likely to find."

"Deep and stinking."

"You ready to deal with it?"

"Mal, has Freya told you anything about me at all?"

"Not much."

Dillon grinned, taking a dozen years off his age. "Next time we meet, assuming no-one's actively trying to kill us, we sit down with a bottle of whiskey, and I'll tell you a few tales about your wife that'll make your hair curl."

"I'll hold you to that."

Freya leaned in the doorway. "Time to go, Dillon," she said, the look on her face announcing to both men that she knew exactly what they'd been talking about. Her next words proved it. "And you're not going to tell anyone anything." She disappeared again.

"Women," Dillon said, shaking his head. "And people wonder why I'm sly."

Mal laughed, holding his aching ribs. "Friend, you don't know what you're missing."

* * *

They were in deep space and Simon was fussing. "No. You're staying here."

"I'm not." Kaylee was stubborn, obstinate and … all the other words she couldn't rightly think of, but most of all she was determined not to be in their room for a minute longer. "I need to get back to Serenity."

"Kaylee, I'm the doctor. And you're the patient. Remember? That means you do what I say, not the other way around."

"And I'm your wife, and you're my husband, and I think that gives me equal rights."

"And you could have lost the baby."

She stared at him, her mouth open, more shocked than she had ever been. "Are you saying that would have been my fault?"

"No, no, of course not." Simon backpedalled frantically. "But you nearly …" He stopped, closing his eyes, trying to think of a better way to explain. "Kaylee, I'd like to keep you to stay in here so I can keep an eye on you. So I'm close by. To make sure nothing goes wrong. To make sure you keep the baby."

Tears filled her eyes. "Do you really think I'd do anything to jeopardise this?" Her hands clasped across her still flat belly. "Now? After all we've been through?"

"Not on purpose, of course not. But you need to take things easy. We can handle everything for a while. You rest."

"I've been resting. Now I want to get up."

"Kaylee, please."

"Why can't I get up?" Now she was getting angry. "What is it you're not telling me?"

"Nothing. Kaylee, I have your best interests at heart. You and the baby."

"Then why can't I get back to work?"

Mal, leaning on the wall by the infirmary, heard the circular argument and had to smile. When Kaylee got it into her brain about something, it was almost impossible to get it out without surgery, and Simon had no chance. Except it looked like someone had other ideas, as Freya descended the stairs and headed for the noise. He followed his wife, curious as to her intent.

Freya stepped into the room. "Out," she said simply.

Simon looked at her. "What?"

"Out. Kaylee and I are going to talk, and you're not going to be here."

"No, look, I -"

Mal took the young man's arm. "Simon, you should know by now, when my wife says something, she means it." He put a little pressure on. "Come on. We need to leave them alone."

Simon still resisted, but felt his arm begin to bruise. "I'll be in the galley," he said reluctantly, then turned and strode out, hurrying up the stairs.

"You gonna play nice?" Mal asked Freya.

She smiled a little for him, pulling the chair to the bed and sitting down. "Kaylee and me are going to talk about being sensible."

He looked at Kaylee, at the sudden expression of apprehension on her face, and closed the door, successfully hiding his grin. He wandered back to the common area.

"Sir?" Zoe stood up from the yellow chair where she and Mal had been discussing plans before being interrupted by an arguing mechanic and her doctor.

"Leave 'em be. Freya's gonna make that little girl see sense."

"She's not so little anymore, sir."

"Nope. Our kids are growing up, Zoe."

"That they are."

"And hadn't you better get back to your own?"

"They're okay. Hank's teaching Ben how to tie his shoelaces. They could be a while."

"Don't you want to go and heckle?"

"No. I'm quite happy here, thanks, sir."

He tried to straighten up, but the aches and pains of his own wounds decided he was better off hunched over like an old man. "Well, I'm going up to the bridge for a spell."

"Sir, don't you think you should rest, at least for a -"

"Going up to the bridge, Zo," he said gently. "Anyone wants me, they know where to find me."

"Yes sir." She couldn't leave it, though. "But Kaylee … the baby … she's going to be all right, isn't she?"

"Simon's a good doctor." His foot was on the bottom step.

"That wasn't what I asked."

He turned enough so he could look into her face. "She's still pregnant, Zoe. That's the main thing."

She gazed at him, trying to read the truth from his eyes. At last she nodded. "Yes, sir. It is."

He climbed the stairs, trying to keep the hobbling to a minimum, encouraging himself with the thought of Niska's face right before he put a bullet in the middle of it. That wasn't murder, he knew. That was putting down a rabid animal, and he'd do it again a thousand times over, and be glad of it, if he could ensure that Kaylee would carry to term and Freya still walked the 'verse. He still wondered, though, why he hadn't let the bastard drown in his own blood, why he'd put him out of his misery, and knew it was a question he was never going to be able to answer. Freya said it was because he was a decent man, but that he couldn't believe. It would probably keep him awake at night for a while to come.

At the top of the stairs he had to stop, catch his breath, remembering that while Simon was a damn good doctor, he wasn't a miracle worker, and it was going to take a while to get back to full strength. If only he didn't feel so gorram tired.

Glancing into the engine room, at Serenity's spinning heart, his once more went out to the young woman downstairs, and he had to swallow the lump that had inadvertently wedged itself in his throat, offering up a prayer that in seven months or so there'd be another little Tam to annoy him. Continuing through to the galley, he saw Simon at the counter, pouring hot water into a mug. The young man looked up at his approach.

"Tea," he said in explanation, holding up a small plastic bag. "Kaylee's mother's."

Mal leaned on the back of one of the chairs. "You figure it worked once, it might again?"

Simon nodded slowly. "I know if anything happens, another baby would never replace …" He stopped and closed his eyes, trying to hold back the emotions he'd been feeling since Kaylee had been taken. "But if it does happen, I need to know I can help."

"I know, doc," Mal said softly. "And you're right. One baby don't replace another, but you still love them. And she's gonna love _you_ even more for it." He managed a grin. "I know what that stuff tastes like."

"Anything for Kaylee." He picked up the mug and sniffed it, sighing heavily. "I'm going to sit with my daughters."

"Good idea." Mal headed for the other doorway, then paused. "Simon, I know you ain't gonna want to be thinking about this right now, but we have to. I'm hoping Dillon's gonna be able to come up trumps for us, but that ain't for sure. That list you gave me for the machine, the one that replicates vaccines. You got a preference for which hospital we knock off?"

The young doctor considered for a moment. Then said, "Parth. They've a fair size hospital, considering the population, but they don't have much of an Alliance presence."

"Okay, Simon. And since you're the criminal mastermind, see if you can come up with a plan. Preferably one where I don't get shot. Or stabbed. Or tortured in any way."

"I will. Just … not right now." He sniffed his tea, the perfume clearing his sinuses quite effectively.

"No. Later is fine. But I want that machine in our infirmary so you can get to work on those antidotes."

Simon exhaled slowly. "You know they might not work. We only have Niska's word for it that what we have is the one that worked. Without extensive tests we might just be pinning our hopes on something that -"

"This ain't over," Mal interrupted. "No matter we want to go back to our lives and be happy bunnies out here in the black, it ain't gonna happen. Not yet. Maybe I'm picking up being psychic - hell, might be catching, since we got so many on board - but I can feel something coming. Whether Niska was right or not, whether he was just pulling my chain so's to torture me more, I don't know. But I ain't gonna take the chance. We get that machine first, then we decide what we're gonna do. 'Cause I don't think we're gonna be able to sit this one out."

"I don't like it, but I'm afraid you're right."

Mal attempted to lighten the mood. "You know, little Kaylee swears blind it was Wash with her. Keeping her going."

Simon finally smiled a little. "She was hallucinating. It's one of the side effects of Jutoprocaine."

"She's pretty insistent."

"She needed someone to rely on, and she just picked him. It could have been any of us."

"Right." Mal sniffed, the aroma of the tea reaching him as Simon prepared to leave the galley. "So … if hallucinations are common, does this mean all that was a dream?"

"No, Mal. And you've got more scars to prove it."

"Then maybe this is the hallucination, and I'm still on Niska's table, taking my last breath."

Simon turned to look at him. "Mal, if you really want a philosophical discussion on the nature of reality I'm sure River would be happy to oblige. Only you might only understand one in ten words she says."

"That many?"

The young doctor was surprised by the rare gentle expression on his captain's face. "I'm sorry, Mal. I didn't mean … it's just these last few days have been pretty nerve-wracking."

"I think I'll be agreeing with you, doc." Mal smiled. "Go on. Your kids are waiting. All three of them."

"That, captain, is one order I'm happy to obey." Simon strode out, mug in hand.

Mal grinned and continued up into the crew quarter corridor. No matter that he knew something bad was coming, and real soon, at least there was the prospect of some happiness around.

_Mal_. Freya's voice in his mind.

_Xin gan?_

_Phoros._

_You sure?_

_Kaylee is. She understands now that she needs to be careful. _

_You talked about Alice?_

_Yes. And Kaylee wants her mother, even just for a while._

_Phoros it is_. He climbed the steps to the bridge, and wasn't surprised to feel his Firefly bank slightly under his feet until the artificial dampeners caught up. "River."

The young woman didn't look at him from the pilot's seat, just continued to put Serenity onto her new heading. "Captain."

"You peekin' again?" He stepped to her shoulder.

"Yes." Now she glanced up at him. "We all need a mother's love. To remember."

"We ain't likely to forget."

"To remember that miracles happen."

He lowered himself carefully into the other seat. "I guess they do." He watched his stars settle again, letting his thoughts roam out into the black. "We all gonna survive this?" he asked eventually.

"I don't know," River admitted. "And you can't catch being psychic."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Not sure I'd want to. But I ain't wrong, am I?"

"No."

She sounded so despondent he had the almost overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and comfort her. "Go on," he said. "Go be with your family. I'll watch up here for a while."

"I'm flying -"

"And I'm captain. Just for once, you do what you're told, _dong mah_?"

She looked like she was about to argue, but she must have read his mind. "_Shr ah_." She stood up, smoothing her dress. "Parth is four days from Phoros at the moment," she added. "I've set the co-ordinates for when we're ready."

"Still waiting on Dillon."

"Ah." She glanced down at the small screen that showed a message was waiting for him.

He sighed. "You need to work on that control, albatross. And stop reading my mail." He shook his head, and smiled. "I take it he ain't been successful."

"No. Nothing available, for love nor money."

"That sounds like one of my wife's sayings."

"It is," she agreed. "So I knew we needed to go to Parth."

"Control, River?"

She shook her head. "No. No control at the moment. I need to feel everything, see everything, to keep my family safe." She put her hand on his shoulder. "All of it."

"That safe for you?" He looked up into her pale, serious face. "Leaving yourself open like that?"

River shrugged. "Safe or not, I have to. Freya is doing the same, and no matter what I tell Bethany, she is too. Even Ethan."

He stirred uneasily. "I ain't keen on using the kids like some kinda early warning device."

"You can't stop them."

"Maybe I can." He leaned forward, unable to suppress a groan as the wounds in his belly pulled.

"Let me." She moved his hands out of the way, her fingers flying across the board, her long dark hair hanging down like a curtain around her face. "Lazarus is close. I have adjusted our route for after Phoros."

"You gonna be okay with that?"

She stood straight, her eyes revealed again. "I want Caleb to be safe." Her gaze seemed to burn into his soul. "And you don't need to be worrying about them while we're fighting."

"Won't stop me. But there _will_ be fighting?"

"Yes."

He sat back, staring out at the stars. "The others ain't gonna be pleased."

"They'll understand."

"S'pose I'd better wave Inara."

"Better not. No telling who's listening."

He couldn't help it. He chuckled. "And I thought I was the one being paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if they are out to get you." As the laughter died in his throat she turned and swept silently out.

"No," he murmured to himself, feeling his body ache. "I guess it ain't."

* * *

"_If they decide to use that stuff against us, it could be our only form of protection." _

"_But Mal, if we're right, and Reavers are all potential psychics, what would it do to people like River and Frey?" _

"_I don't know, Simon. If it ever gets to the stage of us finding out, Frey's made me promise to shoot her. So you gotta see if you can manufacture some kind of serum for them, __dong mah__? Otherwise we're gonna have to pray they never do." _

_**Mal and Simon, EDEN **_


End file.
